Blow Me Away: Life Advice from a Crazy Person

We're all crazy in one way or more, no matter how well we hide it (unless we're boring, but I have half a mind to think even boring people have at least an ounce of nutjob in them here and there). Sure. I get all that. But you know what that kind of introduction means: Bus story forthcoming.

On the big ol' bus ride home today, the Zune died despite its "full" battery as it does every couple of days, so as the music came to a halt and my sudoku game disappeared, I got to listen to what people were talking about!

The Hartzel bus seems better than most other buses for entertainment value. I usually take it down to Westchester and get off to walk home from there on nicer-weather days like today. I sat down and a girl tapped a girl on the shoulder as she walked by and said "I hate that! When I run into people at the terminal just as I'm leaving!"

The girl removed her earbuds. "Wh...?"
"Oh, you had headphones on... I said I hate when I run into people at the bus terminal just as I am leaving."
"...."
"Oh it's not important anyway." The whacky cracker continued on her way to the back of the bus, as the girl who she had been speaking to (who she, clearly by this point, had never met before) looked on, puzzled.

As the bus rolled on to its bus route, I learned a few key points about this genius:

• Always leave a bar with the person you came with. That's her rule.
• She threatened a guy on that street with all the sex trade workers that runs off of Queenston (you know, that one with all the antiques stores) with a knife that she always carries with her, because he thought she was a prostitute last night
• As per the above point, just about every other night, a guy on that street thinks she's a hooker
• She can paint her nails really cool and her friend thinks she should start a business because once she made her nails look leopard-print with a toothpick and some polish
• Her friend (possibly the same one) really likes her hair the way it is right now, so she's not going to change it
• Enjoy going to school now, because the second you're out, you want back in [My own personal addendum to this: Throw any amount of money at Niagara College and they'll let you right back on through those glorious doors of higher learning]
• Everybody goes through one phase in their life; she sure did, she says (phase she went through not specified, sry)
• She's a freak of nature, some of her friends tell her

So that was my trip home. I miss the days when my car was reliable, but really, if I'm going to be transported around by anything other than the Taurus, it might as well be this. Because I need things to blog about. I have a blog, and that means I am lucky and introspective. After all, not everyone gets to blog like me!

Sexual Healing

Today:

Car battery died today before I left for school, so I took the bus instead, despite the fact that it would mean disrupting the class when I walked in 15 minutes after it started. Better late than never, I thought to myself. (See also, in Nikki's strikeout mantras: You have to spend money to make money!, and Think positive!, and You can't make your candle brighter by blowing out someone else's flame.)

So I hop on Pop the bus and things are going good. I develop an affinity for an Emily Haines song I haven't heard in a while because I am finally listening to my mp3 player and not the car radio for once, and the bus, packed with people both sitting and standing, progresses up the highway toward the school. Of course, half way up the skyway, we get stuck behind a big truck driving slowly, so I think, my view obscured by standing bodies, until I realize we're going about 30km/hr on the QEW. Hm. Turns out there is no truck in front of us. We are actually breaking down. The bus makes it (thankfully) over the highest point of the skyway, then coasts, ("I think that's just gravity though," muses a girl nearby) all the way to the bottom of the skyway, and croaks.

"If you want to try walking, I'm gonna be here a while!" yells the busdriver.

I think this is hilarious. I call my dad, laughing in disbelief at my luck today, while walking down a service road with approximately 40-49 other people, toward the school. Of course, I'm pretty far from the school in walking distance terms, but by the time my dad gets there to help, I'll probably already be at school. An accident involving a guy on a cell phone coming out of the White Oaks parking lot and a guy innocently driving down the road almost happens about 20 feet away from me and the others at one point. "Wow," I keep saying. "Wow."

Twenty-five to 30 minutes later, I arrive at school, and miss the other bus home that I would have preferred after that adventure to take instead of staying for the last half of the one class I had today, because it leaves the parking lot just as the group of us reaches the top.

Amazing!

Can I have your couch?

3:30 is decidedly the worst time to be on the bus. Between the fat children intentionally barking like dogs, spouting swearwords in order to irritate the driver, and the sardine can-esque personal space factor, I rarely enjoy a 3:30 trip home.

I would even go as far as to say that when I start paying out the ass for a car in a couple of months, I probably will not miss the 3:30 bus all that much.

I have too much to talk about this week. I've been quiet for so long. What has become of me?

We've got a new apartment for May and I have an interview for a possible co-op placement! Excitement follows. So many people I know have this same interview coming up, which is discouraging for me somehow. I'll have to be really suave to sweep these folks off their feet.

A dirty guy with dreadlocks* told my professor to "hold [his] horses" yesterday when he asked the guy to turn off the metalhead music he had blaring from the earphones of his mp3 player in Stats class. I'm beginning to wonder just who some people are, and what kind of zoo I'm attending school at. When's feeding time??

God I stink today; I just realized now. I hope no one smelled my B.O.



*Not all guys with dreadlocks are dirty, but most are.