Ok, so I didn't actually have this thought on the subway, but I had it shortly thereafter. Is it me or is Usher's "Love in the Club" a really stupid song? I mean it's catchy (I was dancing to it in front of my mirror earlier this evening), but I don't understand why Usher would write a song about having public sex and assuming his fans want to hear about it? I mean, you don't hear me writing a song about my desire to make love with my boyfriend in the subway and if I did, it's certainly not something I would brag about because we aren't in high school anymore and that's not exciting. It's gross. Public sex is gross. GROSS USHER!

Have you ever wondered why no one takes advantage of the empty ad space on subways to put up their own ads? For instance, if you want to humiliate your enemy you could write, "Battina is desperate and looking for love - call 555-234-9876." Or, if you want to declare your love for someone you could right, "I love you and I know where you live. I watch you sleep at night and you look so cute. Call me and let's go on a date!" You can even use your ad as a way to dump someone and avoid the whole messy scene you might get from doing the dumping in person; "Last night was awesome, but I think our time together is done. Please give me back my favorite sweatshirt. Best of luck, Brad." Is it just me or does this seem too easy? You just draw up your own sign at home and stick it in the empty plexiglass space next to the add for CUNY schools on a slow day on the subway. Has anyone ever done this, or willing to try it out to let me know what happens??

Perhaps one of the worst subway offenders, they attack when you least expect it. They are Subway Sleepers. Subway Sleepers are becoming an increasing hazard to other subway riders, yet nothing is being done to stop them. They doze off and think, “To hell with it! I’ll let my drool drip out of my mouth and I’ll rest my head on the person next to me and I don’t care because I have no shame.” I truly believe these are the worst kinds of people because I really hate people touching me on the subway, which I know is ironic because it’s inevitable, but I have come up with a way to fend off these Subway Sleepers with The Elbow, and I’ve decided to share my secret. Here’s how the elbow works. As soon as you notice the subway rider next to you start to doze off you need to be on alert and assume the position. The position involves bending both arms inward so that your two fists are almost touching and your elbows are out forming a “T.” As you see the rider’s head start to tilt, immediately move one elbow out ever-so-slightly so that it gently nudges your neighbor. At this point most riders will mumble something like “sorry” and go back to sleep, so you may wind up repeating this process a few times. However, if a gentle nudge doesn’t do the trick, keep hitting harder until your neighbor gets the message. Please keep in mind an important step in this process, which is to appear busy. While you are nudging your sleepy neighbor, keep your head buried in a book, or keep your own eyes closed so that you can avoid the nasty look that he or she may be giving you. Also, this sometimes makes it appear that you actually didn’t nudge your neighbor and he or she dreamed the whole thing up. Try The Elbow on your next subway ride and be amazed at the results. Say goodbye to smelly, sweaty old men drooling all over you and gain a new sense of confidence knowing that you don’t have to be a victim any longer.

Song of the moment: “4 Minutes” by Madonna and JT because it’s awesome. I hear this song everywhere so it’s always stuck in my head and when I’m at home and it comes on the radio I immediately stop what I’m doing do put on a full dance routine, to a crowd consisting of my two kittens, in front of my mirror.

Now let me tell you a story about The Bag. It's an upsetting story, but it's one that needs to be told. One weekday morning, about a year ago, I was riding the subway to work with my boyfriend and we were just talking, minding our own business when the subway pulled into one of the busiest stations along the route and the onslaught of riders got on. Because I have the best luck ever, I had the good fortune to be standing in front of a small group of three teenagers - two girls and a boy. While the two girls were chatting animatedly about something super important I'm sure, like who has a crush on who and who's having an affair with the principal, one of the girls bumped me (kinda) hard in my Marc Jacobs bag. I made some sort of disgusted sound and muttered something like "watch it" when the girl turned around and said something along the lines of "oh no you didn't." At this point my boyfriend, bless his heart, was looking at me with that pleading "please let this go and don't fly into an irrational rage" look,but I was fuming. Some of the details are blurry, but next thing I know we are yelling back and forth and I'm telling her that my (fake) Marc Jacobs bag is worth more than anything she owns and she's telling me that the bag is probably fake. It was fake, but how dare she think that! Next I'm shouting that I'm older and wiser and she should respect me and she's yelling back that she's 17 so why am I fighting with her? During this time, my boyfriend is still trying to pull me away and calm me down, but to no avail. As luck would have it, me and the three hoodlums got out at the same subway stop and we were still going at it when I pulled out my can of mace. Next thing I knew I was spraying the mace in their direction (it didn't even come close to hitting them) and backing up towards the stairs shouting that my uncle was a cop (not true) and my dad was a lawyer (not true either) and they were in big trouble. By the time I got to work I was so flustered by the whole situation that I was crying. I eventually calmed down and moved on, as best I could.

A month later as I was riding the subway to work alone, god smiled down on me again, and the two girls from that incident boarded the subway. They sat across from me and started giggling, calling out my name and mocking me. I kept my head in my book and pretended I didn't know they were talking to me. I was pretty proud of myself.

Song of the moment: The theme to "Growing Pains." I saw an interview with a few of the Seavers the other day and I haven't been able to get the song out of my head since. "Show me that smile again. Don't waste another minute on your cryin' . . . " Catchy, right?

Will someone please tell me whyyyyyyyy it is that riders who take up two, or even one-and-a-half seats on a subway get to pay the same price for a metrocard as the rest of us who only take up one seat, like we're supposed to?!

I find that this disservice happens in one of two ways. The first is when a really fat rider or a rider with a huge ass thinks it's ok to shove their way into the tiny middle seat between you and the man who's been muttering to himself in some language you can't quite make out the entire ride. You throw a few nasty glances in his or her direction but are forced to squish your body against the window anyway so that you don't have to touch his or her fat that keeps threatening to rub up against you. Ugh. The thought of it makes me shudder because I, unfortunately, have been the victim of this terrible crime more than once.

The second instance of riders getting away with paying for one seat but utilizing two, happens when a man is sitting comfortably with his legs spread out and his head resting back. You would rather stay away from him anyway because he smells like way too much Old Spice, but the seat between him and the overweight kid is the only one left and you really need to sit since you forgot to change out of your stilettos before leaving the office. So you take the seat thinking Rico Suave will close his legs just a little, but he doesn't. You are trying to push over to the other side as much as possible, but you are trying to avoid having to rub up against chubby. For some reason Rico Suave thinks that having a dick gives him a right to take up extra space and give dick room to breathe. Well I say, unless he has paid extra for dick to have his own seat on the subway then he needs to close his legs! You don't see me sitting spread eagle in a dress.

This is an injustice for those of us who were blessed with good bodies, or work hard to keep them thin and trim and only take up one seat. We should not be penalized because some riders refuse to see that they just might be overweight and need to take action (though how they take up more than one seat on a subway and think there isn't a problem amazes me) or because some riders are rude and think that their dicks need extra room to breathe. We must stop this injustice to the regular-sized riders! We should either have to pay less than overweight riders, or they should have to pay more. Let's start a rally and have our voices be heard! So, who wants to organize?

Song of the moment: Nickelback's "Rockstar." It's playing in the background and I love it! I also apparently love exclamation marks because I've definitely overused them in this post.