Down to one car

What an eventful week...not all good, not all bad. Yes, as the title says we three drivers with three jobs are down to one car. Mine bit the dust on Monday. It was only $124 to tow it home. I was expecting the $300 range, so I'm allowed to say "only". My mother was visiting this week. Yes, she was in the truck when it decided to spew oil onto the windshield. I do remember remarking on how I didn't see anyone toss a cup of coffee out the window on the freeway just then. Mom remarked back that she didn't see anyone do that either. That's when I noticed my oil gauge peg lounging, resting, napping at the bottom of the dial. Big sigh here. Like I said, I picked the truck up, got it home, and I'm dusting it off to ride again.

Thank god for friends. Have I mentioned lately how much I have come to truly appreciate my friends? And not just times like now. I mean to tell you we have watched plenty of football games together and eaten our share of nachos for the year together along with that. What surprises me is how friends rally around when the going gets tough. It's this friend that talked me through possible scenarios for my truck drama, who then stopped over that Monday night after work to look under the hood. He popped back in yesterday to watch under the hood while I cranked the car up to see which hose is spewing oil. His wife borrowed me a car to get my mother back to the airport on Friday morning before work. I am blessed.

So now we are down to one car. Thing One is working a second job. Thing Two is picking up extra shifts as fast as they become available and I am riding my beloved bus with new and different connections to get where I'm going. Grocery shopping is difficult. It is a timed event to shop and get the car home in time for someone to go to work.

Yesterday I started the "Log". What I mean to say is I started a small notebook to record every nickel, dime and penny I spend. I'm going to need a vehicle sooner rather than later. I had hoped to change my homestead, find a house with some sunshine. It seems I should make a vehicle my priority. Either way, to dispel the Money Boogeyman I will be watching him to see where he hides, where he rears his ugly face, what treasures he drags away kicking and screaming this time - rather than just letting him have the shadows I'm installing an halogen light fixture to see what needs to be rearranged so he has less access to my money. We'll see what comes of this. Hopefully a car, or a home, or both.

Other stuff happened this week that were awkward, uncomfortable and some downright frightening. Deja Vu moments left me worried about future scenarios. It's an uncomfortable time. It's life. I'm surrounded by love, and that helps. That helps a lot.

Oh, Thing Two will only be here for another three weeks or so....big sigh...Life happens. What an adventure.

House of Sunshine

Life has overtaken me. There's nothing to report, but I'll write anyway.

Bus rides have been interesting. Seattle Sound Transit or Community Transit or one of those has purchased a small fleet of double decker buses. They look kind of scary to me. I don't like that they are so tall and imposing. I find myself wondering if they will tip over in high winds or if everyone sits on one side on the top deck. I ended up riding one this last week. Great windows. Very quiet upstairs too. They still make me nervous. Double decker buses and the back end of the articulted buses make me nervous.

Monday someone let spill a can of beer on the bus. That was intresting. Of course, no open containers are allowed on the bus in the first place, covered coffee excepted (this is Seattle). The bus reeked of beer. The small rivers of brew flowed along the floor to a woman's grocery sacks. I called out for her to pick them up before the beer got that far. The fella behind me got off the bus in a hurry at the next stop. When I left the bus several stops later I saw the seat was wet as well.

I dunno...the neighbor just finished mowing the yard here at my little palace. I've been looking for a new home. Something that might have a little light. My apartment faces north and I get no direct sun at any time of year here. Rent is heading back up in the burg so no telling what I can really afford. Now that I own this job I actually make less take home pay than I did as a contractor. The kids have been upping my phone bill, and my electric bill, and my car insurance and well, I'm not sure I can really afford where I'm at right now even. I used to stress over this stuff. It would really pull me down into the dumps. On a lark, I applied for part-time work at a retail shop nearby. It'd be a good stop-gap for a bit. I just don't want to get suckered in to holding two jobs for more than a four months or so. Seasonal is how I think on it today. We'll see if they call. Next year I can change some deductions and in two and a half years or so all my debts will be paid in full. That's kind of exciting for me. Money is a very fluid comodity. Sometimes the pool is full, sometimes it aint. I'm glad I have the things I have. I'm glad I've done the things I've done. It's all good. That house with sunshine isn't that far away.

Infinite Possibilities

Under the city of Seattle is the tunnel built for public transportation. It is dry here when it is raining up above. That is how I found the tunnel, looking for a dry place to wait for the bus. This week the tunnel became a little of a metaphor. Or at least it added to an idea that has taken the forefront of my brain space lately.

"There are infinite paths to happiness. Don't sweat it."

Me ~ 2011

There are six different buses all going downtown at ten minute intervals each - every weekday morning. Of those, I chose one, the one that is right in front of me. There is no need to wait for the next bus, even on principle, it is the same as this bus. I have umpteen connections I can make once I reach downtown. I can take a bus, or the light rail. I can walk a block or two to make a quicker connection, or to not make a quicker connection (sometimes its cool to just hang around). In the end, there are three different bus routes that swing past my workplace. After all the options, and routes, timetables and cityscapes, it is one of three buses that will deliver me to the door of where I work. Most weeks I cannot catch the same driver twice. Traffic changes everyday. Timetables are guidelines only. It is an infinite mix of possibilities.

And so it is with life.

Bifurcation vs. Articulation

We have buses here in Seattle that carry me from one county to another. They are usually wonderful, warm, comfortable places to be in traffic or otherwise. Lately, and after some rather harrowing bus rides, I'm finding the bifurcated buses not as comfortable. It's beginning to flavor my decisions on how I get home. I prefer to wait for a non-bifurcated bus.

The buses are not actually called bifurcated. They are called articulated. I've attached the dictionary definitions to these two words. Essentially, bifurcation means pretty much just one thing - divide or fork into two branches. That's it. That's what these buses are like. They are two part buses - with the back end swinging separately from the front to enable it to negotiate corners more effectively.

Articulated - this throws me for a loop. What does articulation have to do with a two part bus? I mean these buses belch. But, they don't speak. They don't use language at all, never mind articulating clearly. Okay, the belch counts - but is that truly articulate?

So why, for gods sake, are these buses called articulated buses and not bifurcated?

I do understand why, in today's liberalist society, we do not call these buses "jointed". That term may never work (with a straight face).

Have I whined about this already? That's how much this bothers me...

Bifurcation = to divide or fork into two branches.

Articulation = 1.uttered clearly in distinct syllables.
2. capable of speech; not speechless.
3. using language easily and fluently; having facility with words: an articulate speaker.
4. expressed, formulated, or presented with clarity and effectiveness: an articulate thought.
5. made clear, distinct, and precise in relation to other parts: an articulate form; an articulate shape; an articulate area.
6. (of ideas, form, etc.) having a meaningful relation to other parts: an articulate image.
7. having parts or distinct areas organized into a coherent or meaningful whole; unified: an articulate system of philosophy.
8. Zoology . having joints or articulations; composed of segments. (Oh - this one....got it. Hmmm, still don't like it.)

Nothing special

Some mornings I get the whole city to myself. So it seems. Some mornings I get off the bus and I'm the only soul walking the half block over to the transfer stop. There's maybe a person or three milling about waiting for a bus as well. The city streets are misted over in the early morning so the busses hiss as they motor past. Especially the electric busses - they only hiss, no motor noise.

This morning though, (there's always exceptions) the wind was blowing through the streets, the number of cars weaving among the busses was noteworthy, the people I was weaving among to get to my transfer stop, all of it is such a change from my normal observations. Today, it really was a city. It bustled.

Nothing special - except it kinda was. Nothing much else going on.

Redeeming Bus Rides

Bus rides...usually my favorite time of day. I get serious meditations done. I get eye candy with all the activities going on outside the bus windows. I get novels read. After the bus ride from hell on Monday night - six and half hours of gridlock, icy road conditions, 27 mile an hour sideways blowing snow and no book to delve into - I wasn't too keen on getting on the bus tonight. Bus riding has been redeemed. Just have to get back on the horse and ride, so to speak.

The young lady sitting next to me was wholly interesting. Youth. Youth has a great optimism otherwise forgotten over time. Really, the conversation was nothing. We discussed the virtues of crock-pots and having friends over for dinner, for no damn reason. We got onto the subject of work. She's in training to be a psychiatrist. She's working while she works on her masters (as everyone is here in this town). I don't know what possessed me to tell her something I truly believe. People want two things - to be recognized; to know they've been seen, acknowledgement if you will and they want to be heard: listen, just hear them out, listen to the whole story without interruption or judgement. I get a lot of thank you's at work for just letting these people tell me their troubles. I can't do much about it. But, I let them talk. And I listen. Esther had not heard it put this way before. Is she that young? Maybe. I could see she was putting the ideas into her head for future use - whatever that may be.

Between you and I, at home, I appreciate those times of comfortable silence among the people I love. Then I know all is well. I wonder if I gauge life's contentment in those moments of silence. If one is compelled to be silent does that mean one is content? Maybe that's what I seek. Is this too Zen? It is pleasant, regardless.

If Hell freezes over...

It will look like Seattle yesterday.

I've searched YouTube this morning already. During my six and a half hour bus ride home from work yesterday - got on the downtown bus at 5:17 p.m., got off the bus at the Park and Ride at 11:48 p.m. - the bus driver asked for volunteers to push the bus to get us up a slight incline so we could get on the parkway (oh, I mean freeway). "Anybody wanna push?" We all laughed with the bus driver. Then he said, "I'm serious." and opened the back door. About 15 or 20 young men unloaded from the bus and went around back to push. It was making a difference - believe it or not. (Twenty young men pushing a massive articulated bus, this still blows my mind.) But not enough of a difference.

The driver then said, "Anyone wanna move to the back of the bus? We need some weight over the back tires." I left my seat, I had felt so lucky to actually have a seat, and stood over the rear tires with so many others on the bus. I watched a young man put his hat under the rear tire to give some traction. It actually helped. Out the other side of the bus I saw two young men standing in the sideways sleeting snow filming the event on their phones.

I'll keep searching YouTube. It's got to show up eventually.

(Yes, I got my seat back. Yes, we got going and the young men had to run up to the ever slow moving bus to jump back on board. Yes, I am staying home today. I had enough yesterday.)

Homecoming has changed

I stayed downtown last night after work for a lecture and book signing. It was wonderful. I'm glad to get away for a little entertainment - interactive and all. I didn't get home until quarter to ten. I jumped on a late bus from downtown to take me to the nearest Park & Ride near home. It was late. I left the house at six a.m. and by then it was almost ten p.m. as I stood under the non-shelter waiting for my daughters to swing through to pick me up.

I watched the truck pull into the lot and the headlamps do the quick blinding thing. I smiled because they are here. I smiled because I can see they are both in the truck. May opened the passenger door to swap seats to the back. Except she didn't. She stood there in front of me and said, "You are so beautiful. I am so glad you're my mom." I can hear April from the driver's seat laughing at her sister's randomness. May, still chattering on as she got back into the truck said, "They say if you want to know what you will look like when you get older just look at your parents. I am so lucky. You really are beautiful, Mom."

For that moment while I am taking my seat and shutting the door to the truck I felt absolutely beautiful. I've always known my children were beautiful. Last night I got a taste of it.

What I really like...is coming home. My girls make coming home more than it was while I lived alone. They really are beautiful.

Welcome to the Metro Fitness Program

As is my usual MO when I see my bus coming I break into a jog. Somehow just seeing my bus, well, it’s hard to not want to catch it. I have the morning schedule worked out. If I leave the house at 6:10 am I don’t need to run for the bus. I don’t need to stand around the kiosk for very long either. Once I get into downtown I have to keep my eyes open. If Mr. M got on the bus when I did then it takes some additional time to load and unload the scooter that is his wheelchair (damn, those scooters are fast). If Mr. M is not riding the bus then I can get an earlier connection, but not always.
Coming home is a completely different game. I never get out of the building the same time twice. The buses going past work at the end of the day are more erratic than those in the morning. The schedule is posted at the bus stop; but we all know that is for show and has no basis in reality.
Yesterday I was strolling on the sidewalk after work making my way to the bus stop when I see my bus coming up the street toward me. I’m on the wrong side of the street and I have at least a half a block to go before I get to the designated stop. I start jogging. I cross the street and jog a little faster. I come up to the bus waiting for me at this point and the driver says, “There’s one trouble maker every day. You must be it.”
I pay my fare and hoping I am in good snappy retort mode I reply, “Nah, I’m just trying to get my exercise in.”
“Ah, you’ve joined the Metro Fitness Program. Good to have you on board.”
Some drivers are good with the comebacks.

People downtown

I had an argument with a woman downtown this week. Truly I don’t know how it happened. I consider myself a pretty easy person to get along with most times. I had just gotten off my first bus of the evening at the corner that I cross to get to the next set of buses. As I got off the bus another one zoomed past. I looked up to make sure it wasn’t mine. Other than that, I paid in no mind.

That’s when the woman hurried up to me. We were crossing the street to the next bus station. She looks directly at me while we walk and she asks, “Was that the 454?”
“No, it wasn’t.” I responded. “It was the 411.” I said.
“Oh, you pay attention. I have to learn how to do that.”
“No, I don’t.” I countered. “It might have been the 511. I’m not sure. It was one of the elevens. It said, Lynnwood.”
“You really do pay attention.” She said as we stepped up the curb onto the sidewalk.
“No, I don’t. I’m not sure which bus it was, other than it’s heading north.” And I realize every time I open my mouth I’m giving details on this damn bus that blew by me just a moment ago. I really, really did not pay attention. I saw it was not my bus and that was it.

I also hits me that I am walking along downtown politely arguing with a stranger, refuting the very idea that I pay attention. Why would I do that? It seems in this instance that I am paying attention. Is this the inability to accept a compliment? I dunno. I should be accepting her fine observation with a smile. But no, I do not let her pay compliment to this one time I display a fine quality.

We are still walking next to each other. We are smiling as we chat. It’s at this point I start laughing at myself. I wonder how twisted I really am. I am laughing that I wouldn’t let her say this about me, that I am attentive. I tell her not to accuse strangers of being attentive, we don’t know how to handle this kind of information. Her bus arrives and she shouts out to me while she gets on the bus, “Don’t be so hard to get along with next time!” We are laughing at each other – oh my god…I’ve become one of those…

I hope she is there again this evening.

Seattle Architecture - Somewhere

Downtown Seattle

Somewhere between 3rd and 4th Avenue

Somewhere between when I get off the first bus and get on the second one.

Somewhere around 7:30 a.m.

Outwitting the Weather AND Metro!

There is construction blocking my favorite bus stop downtown. I will have to walk either two blocks north or three blocks south in order to catch my usual bus. I am so adept at bus riding now, what with knowing the Metro System AND the Sound System I am Bi-metro. (When I figure out Pierce and Kitsap Counties I will be Tri- and eventually so advanced as to be considered Quad-Metro. In the meantime...) I can now pick my bus and my bus-stop to best suit my requirements for either proper Downtown Seattle sight-seeing or immediate pick-up and getting home the absolute quickest way possible. Am I becoming a bus-snob? I never would have thought that possible. Not moi....To most of you I am sure the above scene looks like any bus or transit platform in any metropolitan area you care to name. (Okay, so it is) I would like to point out, dear readers, that this transit platform...pause...wait for it...is dry. Yes, my dear readers. This is a non-wet, dry platform.
So is this one....
And this shiny one is dry too.
And the final transit platform before we come out of the downtown tunnel system - yes, this too is dry.

I get comfort, speed and a veritable plethora of options (okay, just four) for dry platforms throughout this fine city.

Maybe tomorrow I will post the story of the Friday downpour, the speeding bus, the curbside tidal wave and how spontaneous crowd reactions are still available among the commuter crowd.

Until then, please stay dry.

Am I wrong? Bus ride hell...

These people that ride the bus with me each day are absolute idiots. Half-wits, dumb-bunnies, goof-balls, nuts. This would be so entertaining if it didn't drive me so crazy. I rode two different buses this week. Two days on the one route, and two days on the other. Both routes are commuter routes. These buses are filled with people carrying briefcases disguised as backpacks. These people are wearing slacks, not "pants". They wear hard soled shoes that do not come with steel-toes, nor broken in "tennies". These people have earbuds and Kindles(tm) and read newspapers (that one has to pay for) when they are riding the bus. Moreover they ride the bus pretty much every work day. They know the "rules" to getting on and off the bus in a crowd. They understand not to hum along out loud to the music coming from the earbuds. They know how to pay their bus fare efficiently, whether with coins or bills or sliding cards or tap cards, they got it down and they keep the line moving.

My issue is at the end; at the end of the day, at the end of the ride, at the end of the route. I live in the north county. I am "up there". The bus ride from the time we leave downtown Seattle to the time we come to my stop, the last stop on the route, takes between half an hour and an hour depending on traffic. Both routes that serve me best have their respective last stop at the two different "Park & Ride"s in the north where I can leave my truck. What hit me this week is that this same event is happening regardless of which bus I take. It must be happening on buses all around the world. Just think of the implications, this same phenomena is more than likely occurring in Budapest, Hungary, somewhere in Bogota, Columbia and probably even on the Isle of Man. You can't deny this. I will have to get over it. There is nothing for it.

This amazing moment of stupidity happens each night as the bus driver makes the announcement detailing the last stop on the route over the PA system to all of us 10 to 25 riders still on the bus. Yes, folks, 10 to 25 people are still riding the bus after everyone else has already gotten off at their respective stops, and are probably home by now by the way. Each driver says, "Last stop for Route [insert bus number here]." It is not until that announcement and it is always after that announcement that some poor panic'd fool feels the burning need to pull the cord to notify the driver to stop for that next and final stop. Well, duh. Did they think the driver is going to take us home with her? Dipsoid.

"Sanity and happiness are an impossible combination" Mark Twain

Anything can happen...

Under the heading of, "Apparently anything can happen today." (My favorite quote by Mark Twain) today I was handed over $100 in bus passes from a co-worker that no longer uses the passes. Merry Christmas!

Downtown diversions

I had a tough day today. Well, yesterday too. As I was riding the bus home this evening it dawned on me there are diversions right here downtown between bus rides.There's Santa in the window at Macy's. There's the long line of parents with their children waiting to see Santa (straight out of the movie A Christmas Story).
There's the model trains running around the tracks in another window at Macy's. The model train window had airplanes, and gandolas and all sorts of cool stuff moving and spinning.

Seattle in general is doing the festival of lights thing. I walked blocks I don't normally walk. I stood outside shop windows I would never linger at any other time of year. I did change buses at a new corner. The people watching was far more fascinating than usual.

I forgot about the day and being beaten down with mediocrity...until I got home. Now I just want to go to bed. I've another two days of quacking with the ducks for this week, another three weeks for this contract. I feel poorly for these people I work with. This is turning into a hard contract to work through.

In the meantime, I've decided I really like golashes. I may need a pair...but only if they are pink.

Two faced moon

That's not the moon you see...that's the clock I watch near King Street Station to see how long I must wait for my bus. I waited a long time this evening. My umbrella is above, someone else's bus is below. From here it looks like a two faced moon with a rocket beyond the orbit climbing to distant galaxies. Interesting, both faces tell the same time.

Seattle - 7 a.m.

3rd & Pine at 7 a.m.

Bus ride through Seattle yesterday and today is a tad bit chilly these days. This morning it was 21F/-6C. Thank goodness there was no wind to speak of. Yesterday I wore a skirt and a long coat. The long coat did me very well. Today I wore slacks and a short coat. Oh baby, those bus seats are COLD! Gloves are now a necessary evil. I love my scarf. I wear a big, wide, colorful scarf to wrap around my neck and stuff into the front of my coat. It's wide across the back of my neck. It's not even winter yet. I'm wondering about hat hair. I don't wear a hat. That will change. I don't know when, but soon.

Jackson and Main (?) at 5 p.m.

The buses this time of year keep on their interior lights only on the drivers side. The seats on the other side of the bus do not have the overhead lighting on. I find this interesting. I lot more people are getting on the buses and shutting their eyes, either relaxing before the day begins (for the morning crowd) or decompressing at the end of the day (for the evening crowd). Yesterday I was on the decompress side of the bus. Today I sat on the luminated side and got some reading done.

Alleyway from Howell and 8th

I'm so glad to have someone else do the driving. I leave the house at 6:30 a.m. and don't get home until 6:22 p.m. and that is fine with me. I start my car at 6:15 in the morning - two reasons. One is to make sure it will start, I'm having battery issues. If it doesn't start I still have time to walk to a bus stop and, with a couple adjustments, still get to work on time. Two is the car is reasonably warm to drive after 15 minutes of chugging away in my driveway to get me to the Park & Ride for the easiest bus to work.

This contract is only until the end of January or so, the coldest months of the year probably. I may be investing in warmer socks, or boots, or parka. Update will follow, I'm sure.

Crazy Synchronicity

Cake Wrecks - one of my favorite blogs to follow, recently changed their format, got a little more "official" and published a book of some of the better cake wrecks. You must, absolutely must, check these guys out. I know from reading their posts the author is out on a book tour at this time. Things are very busy, keeping up with posts, book signings, yadda, yadda, etc.

Coming home from the museum today I stopped in at the drugstore to pick up non-essentials. I climbed the stairs to the commons area of Third Place Books - the shortcut to my car - and who should be taking the stage?(I didn't know they had a stage...) Why yes, none other than my favorite blog authors, Jen and John of Cake Wrecks! Hey, they are real! And again (as this happens repeatedly for my way of thinking) I am amazed at the things people stumble into that make them happy AND pay the bills. Jen and John mention they are a little surprised too. What Jen actually said was, she had no idea, she posted the cake screw-up just for her. It was funny, she posted it.

I was dumbfounded to have almost literally stumbled into this presentation. Earlier in the day I had goofed off in the downtown Nordstroms to kill time. I waited 37 minutes for the bus as I was getting out of downtown (great people watching, btw). I had walked up and down aisles in the neighborhood drugstore because I was in no particular hurry to be anywhere. And here now I am leaned up against a post with my shopping bag of hairspray, box of knuckle bandages, pink nail polish, moleskin, epson salts and peanut M&M's watching these two tell a packed house all about the worst cakes to ever try to be sold - and many of these cake appear to have actually sold. I dunno.

As the question section began to wind down I headed over to the bookstore proper. The book, Cake Wrecks: When Professional Cakes Go Hilariously Wrong is lovely - and fatter than I thought it would be for only two years of ceaseless, all consuming toil (and fun, it sounds like). The line was forming and quickly, as Jen and John were saying goodnight from the stage. I got out of the way. Of all the book signings to stumble onto - and I have wanted to go to quite a few at this bookstore - I picked the right one. I've been reading this stuff already. Next time I might even stand in line for the signed copy.

Fast Lane

Lee Oskar

Clubbing on a Friday night and then running up 5 flights of stairs from the waterfront to the city, up 5 dark city blocks downtown at 1 am to catch the last bus of the night- don't tell me I don't live in the fast lane. Thank you for running with me. And Lee Oskar, among others, are worth it.

There is nothing like live music - Lee is a must see!

http://www.leeoskar.com/netradio_music.html

Quiet Observations

Sshh now, hush - those two are doing the bus napping thing.  Her head is on his side of the seating.  His foot is on her side of the invisible bus buddies line.  A nap on the way to work this morning.  Their body language tells me they are a couple.

Last week on the way home the woman getting on the bus just ahead of me found the last forward facing double seat.  I took the side facing seat just behind her and opened my book.  My book is  more a ruse to look the part of bus rider.  The last stop in the downtown area a man came on board.  About halfway to where I sat he gets a big, genuine smile.  He is looking at the woman in front of me.  The double seat is for him.  

It's this smile of recognition, it's the comfort of napping together apart, it's lovely to witness.  It's wonderful to be surrounded in this way.  Hush, now be very quiet, keep your eyes open and you can see so many things.  Be sure to read the poetry in the back of the bus while you are there.

Dexter

by Arne Pihl

In my dream

Of Dexter Avenue

Concrete is water

Traffic Lights

Are tricks of the moon

And you

With your transfer

Clutched in your fingers

And here to teach me

How to build

A canoe

posted without permission of Poems on Buses: 4Culture, 2007.  All poems posted on buses belong to the author.

Thanks Arne!