Public Transport: Part III: The Ugly

Dear Readers,

I feel like I always have a public transportation related story to tell you. From this you might think that I use it all the time, I really don't. I just happen to get on the train at the same time as all of the best people. Honestly, for now this is the only one I have kept back from you. I may have to hop on a bus, though, just to keep up the stories coming. 

I won't.

But I could.

So, here is a story from...Oh gosh about a month and a half ago.

I was coming back from an interview, and rather than walk back to my dorm I decided to treat myself with a ride on the train. And by treat myself, I mean spend $2.50 so that I didn't have to walk. Because I make healthy choices. Every. Day. Alright, also, I was in heels and I'm a wuss when it comes to walking in heels. I have a really hard time with it. Even though they're little baby heels.

In reality, they're about like this. Aw, how cute. Ain't nothin'.

via http://www.amazon.com/Black-Satin-Rhinestone-Pumps-Womens/dp/B00CI9A5KQ

In my head, though, they feel like is. 

via http://wheretoget.it/link/391649

This isn't the story about my inability to walk in tall shoes. I'll write something else about that some other time. For now we're talking about what happened on the train. 

So, there I am, waiting for it to show up. Me and one other person, doing our best to pretend the other doesn't exist, lest we accidentally start a conversation. While I'm waiting, I am also talking to my mom about how awesomely this interview went. Right on, I'm getting this job! 

(Spoilers: I did.)

Finally, the train pulls up, I decide that because I'm not going far it won't be too rude of me to continue to talk on the phone. Besides, we're talking about unions, not something weird that people shouldn't be discussing in public.

As I pass through the doors I can already tell this is going to be a fun trip. There are two men, leaning against the wall on either side of the door, blasting aggressive rap through a speaker. Now, I'm not familiar with a lot of rap, so I don't really know the classification. But it was the sort of rap that was all "fuck my bitches" every few words. So, for the sake of this, we're calling it aggressive rap.

Now, I don't mean to offend those of you who listen to rap music. Whatever, that's your choice. I'm sure some of you would scoff at my musical choices. Everyone likes different things, and that's awesome. People should like different things. But, you shouldn't like your different things out loud in public. You don't hear me blasting Wrock music, and I don't want to hear your aggressive rap. 

Apparently, other people didn't either. A father and his young child got onto the train as well. A woman who was far past fed up with this music yelled, "Alright! That's enough of your music! There's a child here now!"

♫♪♫ Fuck this, and my bitches aint shit ♫♪♫*

"Haha, sorry, can't hear you over my music!"

Oh my God, I didn't know that my dad actually spent his time as a disrespectful train rider. (JUST KIDDING DAD, I LOVE YOU!)

My mom is still going on about unions, and I'm trying very hard to pay attention to her, but the yelling just gets louder and more aggressive, as this man and his friend refuse to turn down their offensive music.

I think it's important to note that I was standing just across the train from these men, against the other door. At this particular moment it felt like the train was much smaller than it is. People were getting really angry about this situation (these kids and their damn rap music!)

At one point some unkind racial slurs are thrown out, and this is when the music man goes from just general ass to full blown pissed. 

"Come say that to my face!" and "We'll go right now!"

And all I can think is, "Oh crap, no, don't go right now. We're on the train!"

One passenger (maybe the one who thought it would solve the problem by throwing race into the situation) decides that he will alert the conductor. 

"Yeah?! What's he gonna do?"

I'm dead. In this moment, talking to my mom about unions, I'm sure I'm about to be in the middle of some brawl with weird rap as the background music. 

The train lurched to a stop right at that moment and I spilled out of the doors, resisting the urge to actually run.  

I wish I had a better end to this story. "And then the police rushed in and all was well." Or "The two men then sat down a talked rationally about why they were so angry in that situation, and though they are not friends they went on their way having gained a new perspective."

The reality is I have no idea. Confrontation scares me. 

And, I still don't know much about unions.

* Yeah, obviously I'm not a rapper...

I Just Want to Pretend

Dear Readers, 

As some of you may or may not know (or may or may not have guessed based on this blog) I spend a lot of time in my own head. I like to believe that my imagination is just as strong now as it was when I was a kid. Maybe even more so. 

Some time last year (January 28th, if we're being exact) I dedicated a post to the fact that often in my day-to-day life I see people who remind me of a fictional character, and for a split second I can believe that I'm part of that world.

via http://giphy.com/gifs/ok1tOvpe5yvy8

Yeah, sort of like that, but, you know, with less water and flipping and singing. 

Alright, sometimes with the same amount of singing. 

Spoiler: Totally more singing than that. 

That's not the point. The point is I have an over-active imagination. 

So I wanted to share with you an event that happened recently. I'll start by saying I feed my over-active imagination daily, this is a good practice and I really recommend that everyone let their mind run away with them at some point. 

Now, I know I uploaded a map of the campus last week, but for your convenience I'll do it again:

Via www.pdx.edu

Today's story takes place within that red square. Right there, as you can see, is a small patch of grass. People who live on or around campus who also have dogs often let their pets run around in that area. It's awesome for me because I miss being around dogs like, woah. Can you blame me after working around them for years?

Maybe you can. But you shouldn't. Anyway.

So I was strolling from Parking 3, where my car still was at the time. And I get close to the grassy area when I see a lovely looking older woman and her adorable small dog. I'm 85% sure it's some kind of terrier. It was black and white and in the most adorable little coat. 

So, anyhow, I'm walking and walking and suddenly I hear the quick "clickclickclick" of the dog following behind me. 

And for a brief second, I was Sophie being followed by Heen. 

via http://through3dcoloredglasses.tumblr.com/post/20851459838/heen-appreciation-post

For those of you who don't know, that's a clip from Howl's Moving Castle. For those of you who haven't seen it, I 100% recommend it.

I was content to be Sophie, especially in this scene, as she's an old woman and has a hard time with the stairs. I'm not an old woman, but this was after my graveyard shift, so I felt a bit old...

Anyway, Sophie is amazing. And that was all good. Until I realized that the (probably) lovely old woman behind me would then be the Witch of the Waste

via http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Characters/HowlsMovingCastle

And that's not an identity I'd wish on anyone. 

So, I let that go. But I want to say Thank You, to the woman and her dog, for letting me imagine after a long day of work that, just for a second, that I was Sophie.

Apologies and News

Dear Readers,

First off, let me just say that I am sorry that I didn't get to fill your hearts and minds with joy by posting something last week. I've been trying very hard to write things up ahead of time, but that week time got away from me.

I started a new job (yay!) working the graveyard shift (eeeew) throwing freight (yay!...wait...yeah, yay!).

So, basically, I'm trying to learn how to exist while waking up for work at 11 pm, then getting back to my room at 9 am and not getting out of class until 4 pm. It's a struggle. Mostly because I really love surfing the internet more than I like sleeping. But then I wake up and realize that I really do love sleeping and I should have slept more. It's a viscous cycle.

"But why don't you just nap?" I hear people like my sister Danica and my roommate Ashley asking.

I just can't. I mean, I can nap, I'm physically capable of it. But I have the worst luck with naps. I can snooze for 20 mins, then ruin my entire night of sleep because suddenly I'm not tired. I'm just not a good napper.

I envy those of you who are, and I hope you enjoy your 5 o'clock naps. I, on the other hand, will simply get off work and stay up until it's a reasonable time for me to go to bed for the night. 

All of this leads up to a story. 

It's the story of my first attempt at a graveyard shift. Instead of going in at midnight the first night they asked me to be there by 4 am. 

Awesome, you're saying, 4 am is plenty of time to sleep. 

And I would agree with you. Except that I couldn't sleep.

I was in bed by...6? Probably 6. And I tossed and turned until 2 when my alarm went off. Knowing that the drive to my new job is only five minutes I nodded and decided that I could just relax and wake up in my bed for a few more minutes. 

A few minutes turned magically into 3:30.
Now, those of you who don't know, I like to be early. I was always told "If you're not early you're late." Somehow this translated into a need to be extremely  early all the time to everything. And I'm not talking five minutes. I'm talking thirty or more. It's a problem.

So, imagine me, waking up with thirty minutes to get to work. I nearly died on the spot. I threw my clothes on, grabbed my purse and rushed out of the room...silently, because my roommate was sleeping (as normal people do at three thirty in the morning). 

At this time my car was parked across campus, for money reasons.

Via: www.pdx.edu
I've outlined the parking structure and my building in red, adding the route I jogged...also in red.

I quite literally jog, yes, JOG across campus to get to my car.

I don't jog, people. I hardly saunter. I don't care how much healthier I am now, I'm a crappy jogger. But darn it, i was not going to be late on my first day.

I got half way to y car before I realized that my name tag was still on my desk lamp.

I had a grave decision to make. Risk being late or risk breaking dress code. I wasn't sure which was worse. 

I decided to risk being late.

I got into my car and sped (carefully, because a ticket would make me even more late) back to my dorm where I parked illegally, sped back up to the eleventh floor, snagged my name tag, silently, and ran back out of the room. 

All in all I was still roughly 15 minutes early. 

Snow Globes and Hearts Made of Cheese

Dear Readers,

Rather than trying to split two small things up I thought I'd combine them. And, because they'd both be much later than they actually happened I decided to just squish them together like some sort of story casserole. 

Part I: Snow Globes

At one point or another I expect that you've all seen a snow globe. They're amazing, especially when they're also a music box. For those of you poor souls who haven't had the pleasure of seeing one I've found an accurate representation for you:

via http://www.monikadesignoldala.eoldal.hu/cikkek/hogomb.html

How amazing is that? Now, in a real snow globe the snow doesn't fall indefinitely, you have to shake it up for the snow to fall. 

Now, I've got a large imagination, but I can honestly say that I've never considered what it's like to live inside one of these globes. As you can see from my extremely accurate picture above there is a limited amount of things to do in a snow globe. That snowman is lucky enough to have his house back there. Hopefully that's his house, otherwise life is not gonna be fun for him and whoever lives there.

Then again...He is a snowman...He probably doesn't mind living in the snow...

Alright, forget that whole bit, I don't know enough about snowman living habits to speak accurately on if he needs a house or not. 

The fact that there is a limited number of things to do stands, though. That really was the point I was rambling towards. 

 I can now say with all honesty that I don't have to imagine what it's like living in a snow globe. I know. 

About three weeks ago now Portland (and the surrounding areas) experienced some snow. 

Now, when I say some snow and am referring to Portland I generally mean something like this:

via http://terriblycute.com/depressed-by-a-dusting-of-snow/

Aw, a little bit of snow, how cute. 

Not this time. This time I mean, so much snow that people were skiing down the street, so much snow that for the first time in history the city sent out an emergency alert via text message, urging people to stay inside. 

On the first day this was pretty nice, I live in a place where snow is infrequent, so it was awesome. The second day was nice, I went for a lovely walk in the snow. For the most part the snow was light and fluffy and everything you want snow to be. 

After that there was chaos, the news seemed to only report on the snow. Any time it was on, snow. It was incredible. 

Part II: Hearts Made of Cheese

I know that this post is into March already but I'd be remiss if I didn't discuss Valentine's Day. 

Based on my sarcastic view of the world you might be expecting some sort of "Valentine's Day is only there for people to spend money on chocolates and flowers and cards and pink and red." You'd be wrong. 

I think Valentine's Day is wonderful. Is the candy overpriced? Sure. Are people selling their first born to buy a dozen roses to court the love of their life? Probably. It's still wonderful. This is coming from someone who spent most of her teenage years actively avoiding any sort of romantic movie/literature/shows/songs.

I think love is beautiful. I don't think that this should be the one day a year that people choose to show their love, but if someone needs a kick in the pants in order to make a move, then awesome. 

Now that you know where I stand you're probably gearing up for some sort of, "But I still hate it because I was alone."

Sorry to say you're wrong again. 

I mean...

I was alone, well, not alone alone, my roommate was in the room. Romantically, though, yes. I was alone on Valentine's Day. 

That didn't mean I couldn't enjoy some holiday cheer! My mom sent me an awesome box of awesome stuff, but being mindful of my good eating habits, I only had a couple squares of chocolate. 

How else, then, could I enjoy the holiday?

I had decided early in the day to make a meatloaf, because meatloaf. Now before you get all "BUT YOU JUST SAID YOU WERE EATING HEALTHY! I'VE BEEN BETRAYED!" Take a breath. 

I made an awesome healthy meatloaf with 95% lean beef, tons of veggies and oatmeal in place of bread crumbs. 

I'm sure you've realized that this is not a romantic Valentine's Day meal. 

Don't you worry your little self.

via Myself

I totally classed it up, and rather than a meatloaf, it was dubbed "Meat Cake" (because that's not weird...).