Posts Tagged ‘bus’
Almost missed the bus this morning. Drove the whole three blocks to the South Hill Park & Ride, got there, parked in the front row, and realized I was minus my Iphone. FAIL. Key player in these gas-is-three-fuckin’-fifty-a-gallon-so-let’s-hop-a-bus days. Sooo, I haul booty back to the apartment, grab the goods, and haul booty forward again. Luckily, I made it. But not without sprinting madly from the ass-end of the parking lot because apparently I was too slow for the front spot I had held less than two minutes ago.
Grrr. God, I hate doing that. I hate rushing my life. Waving my hands up in the air, stuff in both of ‘em, running abnormally because my damn sack pack distributes weight unevenly across my back. Knowing that every single person sitting on that bus is staring at the retard stumbling towards them. Haha! Okay, maybe that’s a bit drastic, but still, I’m a much bigger fan of taking my time as compared to rushing it. Obviously.
Last night, I hung out with one of my best friends growing up. Megon Witter. This girl is totally unique. Nothing you’d expect by simply looking at her. She’s one of those people born with a lisp. But instead of it being on her lips, it’s inside her head. But I mean that in the nicest possible way. Haha. Honestly tho. She doesn’t think about stuff the same as you or me. Like, the whole picture is there, but when you get down to the specifics, you gotta wonder what thought process led her to thinking what she just thought. It’s cool shit. Haha.
Anyways, it was fun. We didn’t really do much, just talked and caught up on shit. Which is awesome. I like the chill atmosphere that comes with that. No having to impress anybody, no having to defend yer opinions. Just straight…chillin’. Groovyness. Mmmhmm.
I hate these days where I wanna write so bad, but have no idea what I should write about. I’ll bounce possible topics around inside my head trying to at least get a genre going. Maybe I’ll go funny this time, maybe serious. Perhaps fiction, perhaps non. Happy? Sad? Both? But nothing seems to satisfy. Or if it does, it makes no sense once it gets to the paper.
It’s like my brain is a giant microwave with a faulty door. And there’s this fresh bag of yummy popcorn inside of it. Of course, in order to achieve that ‘yummy’ factor, my popcorn can only be left in the microwave a certain number of minutes. But sometimes the door gets jammed and rescue is impossible. So my popcorn burns and blackens and eventually has to be thrown away. And all I can do is watch.
I suppose I’ll just write about what’s on my mind today. (Take a journalistic route this morning instead of my regular creative one.) It’s Saturday. I’m currently sitting on a bench outside the plaza waiting for the Cheney bus. Zone 9. The sun’s actually out, which makes me happy. The past couple of days have been pretty ugly weather-wise and it’s nice to be in the 60′s for a change. Haha, I just said ‘pretty ugly’ and you didn’t even notice.
People watching is always incredibly entertaining to me when at the plaza. Although I’m leaning more towards people staring at this point. There’s always this group of socially awkward individuals who sit together on the green benches in front of the City Perk. (The City Perk is the little coffee shop inside the plaza.) I honestly think they consider this their hang-out spot. I never see any of ‘em catch a bus and as the day progresses, their group seems to expand by like twenty people every hour. By the time the sun goes down, clusters of retards are swarming the place. It’s a freak fest and apparently everyone in Spokane County is invited. Haha. Shit, if we’re this bad, I can only imagine what the bigger cities entail. Seattle, Los Angeles, Chicago? Yikes.
The City Perk has these awesome drinks I tried for the first time about a month ago. They’re called Red Bull sodas. Everything about them is delicious. Red Bull+your choice of Italian soda flavoring+whip cream+some sort of sweetening cream. It’s so simple, yet so full of awesomeness. Plus, it’s only $3.25 for a 32 oz.
Went to my best friend, Bree’s, graduation last night at EWU. Cheney High School – Class Of 2010. Wasn’t as bad as I thought it was gonna be. Usually I hate going to events where everybody and their mom knows who I am. It always leads to questions having to do with my future and that’s never good cuz not even I know the answers to those questions. You in college? Why not? Are you gonna be? When? Ugh.
Yes, at some point in my life I am going to enroll in school. May not be this fall, or the next one, or the one after that, but mark my words, it will happen. The only thing stopping me at this point is the money. I guess I wanna be able to pay for my tuition up front without having to take out a loan or rely on grants and scholarship money. If I had a million bucks, I’d register for classes within the hour. But I don’t, so I’m not. Haha.
Everybody down here is on some sort of a mission. It’s like thousands of ‘hurry up and wait’ situations. I wonder how many people step foot here on a daily basis. There’s so many different personalities; a stirfry dinner with the people as the veggies and the plaza as the melting pot.
A few minutes ago, some guy asked me for a cigarette through the window. I just gave him the peace sign and shook my head slowly. It’s amazing how understanding someone can be solely by hand gestures and body language. You don’t even hafta utter a word, yet have a whole coversation despite it.
I wanna move, except for some unknown reason, I enjoy writing in this particular spot. The green bench shoots my mind shockwave after shockwave of word recipes. Usually it’s never that way; I’ll find myself going too fast for my hand to connect with it all. A shower faucet on steroids. Can’t let it overflow cuz that just gets messy. But then again, there’s gotta be some sort of pressure source, cuz how the fuck else are you supposed to get clean? Haha, good shit.
I wanna get lost in all those endless puddles scattered across Riverside Street. Just plant my two feet, click em’ together, then sink. Dorothy, minus Kansas and Toto. Get gone in a fantasy land, cuz reality’s just too fucking boring sometimes, yu know?
Hop on the Sprague bus (#90) on a wet and rainy day in the middle of busy hour….the smell’s are crazydisgusting, and I’ll guarantee yu’ll never eat lunch right before boarding again….here’s my story for the day….enjoy….
You must be joking if you think I’m scootin’ my ass over for yers. Seriously??? The sight of you is bad enough, but come on dude, you R-E-E-K. And believe me, I’m tryin’ to spare feelings here. Jesus. If I were to throw some week-old mayonaisse in the microwave with no regards to a bowl or timer, I’d still have a better smelling creation than the one yer giving off right now.
And how dare you shoot me that “god-yer-a-bitch” look. Pshh, who knows, I may just agree with you. But that’s neither here nor there. Cuz yu see, I’m what you’d call a classy bitch. A classy bitch who has a nifty little power called ‘choice’. The power to choose, my friend. So sorry to rain on yer funky little stink parade, but sitting next to a human dumpster on a 45 minute bus ride isn’t really my idea of a ‘healthy choice’.
Good luck finding a seat tho; yu’ll definetly need it. Who knows, you may even get lucky 4 rows down with that nasty red-head. The one who constantly smells like dirty cat box and faded dryer sheets. Just please, whatever you do, use protection. Imagining any offspring sends cold pricks of shivers down my spine. God forbid.