Yo peeps! Ok this is my first blog in years, so bear with me.  After reading  Tiffany's bunny-infested blog, I figured... Hey, I have lots of stuffs to say! I should write them and post them on the interweb page - is nice! Plus I can hopefully slow the loss of brain cells as I approach the end of my college career.
    So anyway, as God's providence and "luck" were topics during this week's Sunday school, I thought I'd do a little investigation into the concept of luck and how it affects me in my everyday exploits, particularly during my frequent train rides.  I'm sure most of you have gone through the unpleasant experience of riding a packed train, or having to sit, pressed uncomfortably close to a stranger who mistakes his crappy iPod earbuds for miniature in-ear boomboxes, and spreads the tinny joy of his tired Reggaeton music in a 2 foot radius that includes exactly... you. 
    Naturally I try to avoid this situation by taking the outside seat of the 3-seat group (the one next to the pole), leaving one awkward, inadequately sized, almost exclusively yellow seat in the middle.  Now, I am no porker, but I take up at least one whole seat, not including shoulder width and puffy winter jacket allowances; the same being true for the person sitting on the other end of the 3-seater, leaving about 80% - 90% of yellow goodness in between.  So as passengers board at the next stop, I observe closely. 
    The huge black dude with the North Face? He'd rather take the tiny edge of the silly backward facing chair than squeeze in where he doesn't fit. 
        Logical and somewhat self-sacrificial. 
The anorexic girl with the black fingernail polish? She... stands, casually shrugging off the strain gravity would exert on a more... substantial person. 
       Fortunate.
The Jamaican lady who obviously does more talking than walking, and offers a good home to stray beef patties? POW! Right where she does not, can not, and can never hope to fit comfortably. Right next to *me*.                   Inconsiderate! Never apologizes! Stand!
    Now if this were a funny anecdote about an isolated incident, fine.  But, alas, too many times have I felt cold, wind-chilled thighs exceeding their lawful bucket-seat boundaries and pressing against my own! If they paid their fair share of train fare (I'd say about $2.25 to $2.50), or apologized for their abrupt nudging then I could not complain.  But they do not!
    So, what can be done to remedy the situation? I propose a sticker to be placed on the infamous yellow hot seat, similar to the handicapped sticker, only it would read "DO NOT FORCE".  If you get a ticket for putting your bags on the seat next to you, then you shouldn't be allowed to put your...bags on the seat(s) next to you either.  The only other solution I can think of would be for the lady to toss me a quarter when she squeezes in.  Just to even things out.  Similar signs could be placed to designate areas where I could sit without fear of hearing Johnny loudly relate his story to Bobby about last night's exploits with Mike, or how he hated what they did to his hair at the salon because it makes him look fat.
    So to clarify things a bit, yes this does happen to me quite a bit, and no I am not exaggerating.  Am I lucky? Am I unlucky?! The answer is neither! God must have quite a sense of humor because, as related in Sunday school, he has complete control over everything that ever happens, down to the last beef patty!  I guess I'm not lucky, I'm... targeted.

and those are my two cents.