I love public transport. Really. Even with its interminable delays and innumerable service interruptions, I love public transport because when it is working well, which is more often than you think, it offers a valuable, valuable service. It is a service so valuable I cannot believe I get to use it. It is, to me, magic.
My love for public transport stems directly from my hatred for driving. I love public transport so much because I get to have someone else do what I most abhor, and for a paltry, paltry sum at that. With me, riding the bus has nothing to do with not being able to afford a car of my own, but everything to do with not being able to afford another minute of road rage. Indeed, I road the bus to church yesterday in all of my newfound Georgetown splendor: silk dress, patent flats, cashmere wrap, pearls. Did I look a little out of place? Maybe, but only because it was my first time on that particular bus and I didn’t know exactly where it picked up.
I love public transport.
Showing posts with label public transport. Show all posts
Showing posts with label public transport. Show all posts
Monday, September 8, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
My new digs
I'm a Washingtonienne! This morning I boarded the train from NJ to DC and officially moved into the townhouse in Georgetown. I've moved in with the Captain, and even though we've been planning this for weeks, only today did it occur to me that we were moving in together. The Captain's baby brother lives here, too, so I suppose that's why I hadn't thought of it as moving in together - I was just getting two new roommates. When my feet crossed the threshold, however, it hit me: the Captain and I are a cohabitating couple.
Wowie.
This new reality will sink in over time. Until then, some reflections on my new digs:
I love it. There's free transportation to the center of town, and I'm walking distance from all sorts of fun amenities: the gym (yes, I already have a gym), a running shop, two bike shops, a shopping mall, a cupcake shop, and...A RED SOX BAR.
There is a Red Sox bar just blocks from my house. I am thrilled. The Captain already has warned me that it's really a meat market, but I'm a tough cookie. I'll keep my eye on the ball.
Wowie.
This new reality will sink in over time. Until then, some reflections on my new digs:
I love it. There's free transportation to the center of town, and I'm walking distance from all sorts of fun amenities: the gym (yes, I already have a gym), a running shop, two bike shops, a shopping mall, a cupcake shop, and...A RED SOX BAR.
There is a Red Sox bar just blocks from my house. I am thrilled. The Captain already has warned me that it's really a meat market, but I'm a tough cookie. I'll keep my eye on the ball.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Mnfsouyre - UPDATED, again!
It is 5:11am. I am at my gate at Logan and already people are yakking away on their cellphones. At FIVE IN THE MORNING. What could people possibly have to talk about at five in the morning? Even with the 24 hour news cycle, it's Sunday. There aren't any markets open, anywhere.
(As you can see, I am thrilled to be up at this hour on my way to the bar. My flight doesn't even board for another hour and a half. Usually I'd blame the Captain and how he's inherited his father's 'Get to the airport eight hours in advance' gene, but this time I can't lay the blame on genetics. No, I lay the blame on a cab company that actually showed up when we called them, a highway completely free of traffic, a checked bag that came in just under the weight limit, and a security check that I'm not sure even happened it was so fast. Who knew.)
And so begins the end. When I got up this morning I looked at my BarBri books and thought, "How weird it will be to come home and throw all these out." Because everyday for the last three, arguably four, years has led up to this. Three years, $140,000, the same five pounds gained and lost and gained (and hopefully lost) again - it's all led up to this exam.
Bring it.
UPDATE: And we're off to a fantastic start. After I spilled Dunkin' Donuts all down my front I went to the bathroom to try to mitigate the damages. Now I have a huge wet spot in the middle of my chest. That's cool.
UPDATED, AGAIN! I am in Oakland! But the Captain is not. We didn't get the same flight out here because of logistical reasons, and somehow my flight made it out of Boston just fine but his had some trouble. So he missed his connection when he got to New York, and there he is still even after numerous attempts to get him to California. We're hoping he'll make it to Oakland by this evening, but even if he doesn't, there's still all day tomorrow. It's a big cramp in the studying, but snafus such as this are why we planned to get here two days in advance, anyway.
Nice to see things are going to plan.
(As you can see, I am thrilled to be up at this hour on my way to the bar. My flight doesn't even board for another hour and a half. Usually I'd blame the Captain and how he's inherited his father's 'Get to the airport eight hours in advance' gene, but this time I can't lay the blame on genetics. No, I lay the blame on a cab company that actually showed up when we called them, a highway completely free of traffic, a checked bag that came in just under the weight limit, and a security check that I'm not sure even happened it was so fast. Who knew.)
And so begins the end. When I got up this morning I looked at my BarBri books and thought, "How weird it will be to come home and throw all these out." Because everyday for the last three, arguably four, years has led up to this. Three years, $140,000, the same five pounds gained and lost and gained (and hopefully lost) again - it's all led up to this exam.
Bring it.
UPDATE: And we're off to a fantastic start. After I spilled Dunkin' Donuts all down my front I went to the bathroom to try to mitigate the damages. Now I have a huge wet spot in the middle of my chest. That's cool.
UPDATED, AGAIN! I am in Oakland! But the Captain is not. We didn't get the same flight out here because of logistical reasons, and somehow my flight made it out of Boston just fine but his had some trouble. So he missed his connection when he got to New York, and there he is still even after numerous attempts to get him to California. We're hoping he'll make it to Oakland by this evening, but even if he doesn't, there's still all day tomorrow. It's a big cramp in the studying, but snafus such as this are why we planned to get here two days in advance, anyway.
Nice to see things are going to plan.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
:-(
When my sister Schmoopy was writing her honors thesis at Stanford, she sent me and her boyfriend a picture of herself wearing a very sad face. The caption read, "This is how my thesis makes me feel."
If I weren't so paranoid about privacy (yes, I recognize the cognitive dissonance of 'privacy' on a blog), I'd post a similar photo of myself. My caption would read, "This is how the bar makes me feel."
Instead, I'll just say this: today I got so sick of studying and missing the Captain that I almost got in my car. But then I hopped on the T to go to the library. Where I continued to be sad.
If I weren't so paranoid about privacy (yes, I recognize the cognitive dissonance of 'privacy' on a blog), I'd post a similar photo of myself. My caption would read, "This is how the bar makes me feel."
Instead, I'll just say this: today I got so sick of studying and missing the Captain that I almost got in my car. But then I hopped on the T to go to the library. Where I continued to be sad.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Serenity now
...insanity later. (Ah, George.)
The Captain texted me Reinhold Niehbuhr's [FN1] serenity prayer this afternoon. This after I told him 1) it is possible, after all, to have road rage on the T, 2) BC's main campus was crawling with tourists, and 3) lots of F-bombs sprinkled throughout. The Captain's point is well-taken now, nine hours after the fact, but at the time I was in a sweaty frenzy. Waiting thirty-six minutes for the T in 90F weather will do that to a person.
But the truth is, the Captain is just naturally more serene than I ever will be. (Or maybe I need to go "defend our country's freedoms" in 140F heat like he did.) I have been counting only since yesterday, but so far I have called him while very upset everyday this week. Superstar he is, he has taken everything in stride. He is a very good sport. He's even anticipated future meltdowns by taking the tried-and-true route of procuring me sweets. Holding aside the threat of an expanded midsection, I cherish his care and aspire to his equanimity.
Big hugs.
---------
FN1. Yes, yes, I know the authorship is recently in dispute. I read The New York Times just like you.
UPDATE: The whoopie pies arrived today. If you look closely, that's a dozen delicious pies. Plus a card that says, "Happy PMBR!" I chuckle to myself when I imagine what the Whoopie people must have thought when writing that card. Probably thought it was some cute inside joke. Would that it were.
The Captain texted me Reinhold Niehbuhr's [FN1] serenity prayer this afternoon. This after I told him 1) it is possible, after all, to have road rage on the T, 2) BC's main campus was crawling with tourists, and 3) lots of F-bombs sprinkled throughout. The Captain's point is well-taken now, nine hours after the fact, but at the time I was in a sweaty frenzy. Waiting thirty-six minutes for the T in 90F weather will do that to a person.
But the truth is, the Captain is just naturally more serene than I ever will be. (Or maybe I need to go "defend our country's freedoms" in 140F heat like he did.) I have been counting only since yesterday, but so far I have called him while very upset everyday this week. Superstar he is, he has taken everything in stride. He is a very good sport. He's even anticipated future meltdowns by taking the tried-and-true route of procuring me sweets. Holding aside the threat of an expanded midsection, I cherish his care and aspire to his equanimity.
Big hugs.
---------
FN1. Yes, yes, I know the authorship is recently in dispute. I read The New York Times just like you.
UPDATE: The whoopie pies arrived today. If you look closely, that's a dozen delicious pies. Plus a card that says, "Happy PMBR!" I chuckle to myself when I imagine what the Whoopie people must have thought when writing that card. Probably thought it was some cute inside joke. Would that it were.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Issue spotter
A woman shoved me on the T this evening. I've become so mired in the bar that my first thought wasn't to tell her to keep her hands to herself or even to shove back.
No, my first thought was, "Harmful and offensive contact!"
Sigh.
Next time I'll stick up for myself. You should, too. She was wearing an ill-fitting top and could have used a good trip to the hair salon. And the therapist.
No, my first thought was, "Harmful and offensive contact!"
Sigh.
Next time I'll stick up for myself. You should, too. She was wearing an ill-fitting top and could have used a good trip to the hair salon. And the therapist.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Erratic behavior
Now that I'm taking the bus everywhere, I have been reminded that many, many people are mentally ill. Just this morning a fellow passenger, bedraggled and dirty, started talking to himself in a hurried, continuous manner.
I mention this because I wonder just how precarious anyone's mental health truly is. Studying for the California bar, which apparently has a 39% overall passage rate, will lead a person to do that - question her own sanity. I don't think I'm insane for having chosen to take the bar, but I do wonder how I will respond to the constant pressure and anxiety as the dreaded exam approaches. The first thing to go? Self-consciousness. Last night I emptied my trash in my underwear. Rather than go to the trouble of putting on a pair of shorts, I scurried out into the hall with my garbage, threw the bag into the hall trash, and scurried back to my apartment. Nobody saw me, and at least I scurried, but seriously - no shorts?!
A couple nights ago the Captain and I watched "A Lawyer Walks into a Bar," which is a documentary about six people who take the California bar. It frightened me enough to whip out the flash cards during the movie. Which is probably a good thing, so I thank my buddy Ms. J for recommending it to me.
Back to studying. With shorts.
I mention this because I wonder just how precarious anyone's mental health truly is. Studying for the California bar, which apparently has a 39% overall passage rate, will lead a person to do that - question her own sanity. I don't think I'm insane for having chosen to take the bar, but I do wonder how I will respond to the constant pressure and anxiety as the dreaded exam approaches. The first thing to go? Self-consciousness. Last night I emptied my trash in my underwear. Rather than go to the trouble of putting on a pair of shorts, I scurried out into the hall with my garbage, threw the bag into the hall trash, and scurried back to my apartment. Nobody saw me, and at least I scurried, but seriously - no shorts?!
A couple nights ago the Captain and I watched "A Lawyer Walks into a Bar," which is a documentary about six people who take the California bar. It frightened me enough to whip out the flash cards during the movie. Which is probably a good thing, so I thank my buddy Ms. J for recommending it to me.
Back to studying. With shorts.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Into every life
Today, I got caught in the rain. Without an umbrella or a jacket. I tried to seek refuge underneath an overhang, but alas, the wind had another idea: horizontal precipitation. Only my belly remained dry - how, I do not know. But everything else was thoroughly wet. As I walked from the bus stop to my apartment, in the rain, I experienced the transformative power of attitude. At that particular moment I was soaked, but soon I would be dry, and soon I would be enjoying these cookies in my apartment.
Because you know as soon as I got home and showered, I made myself some treats. I deserved them.
Because you know as soon as I got home and showered, I made myself some treats. I deserved them.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
The little engine that couldn't
No, not me, the T.
Today I took the T on my way to the gym. I had just spent a "lovely" afternoon in the cool, air-conditioned basement of the Tip O'Neill library (yay, Democrats), and it was time to get active. Halfway to the gym, the T got to the crest of a hill, and then bloop. It just stopped and refused to go any further.
Hey, I understand. When it's 95F and humid, I seldom want to go places, either. But I got out and walked the rest of the way to the gym. And the T never started running again. Sigh.
Today I took the T on my way to the gym. I had just spent a "lovely" afternoon in the cool, air-conditioned basement of the Tip O'Neill library (yay, Democrats), and it was time to get active. Halfway to the gym, the T got to the crest of a hill, and then bloop. It just stopped and refused to go any further.
Hey, I understand. When it's 95F and humid, I seldom want to go places, either. But I got out and walked the rest of the way to the gym. And the T never started running again. Sigh.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Observation
Yesterday, I rode the bus to the Captain's house. It took me about forty-five minutes, including a transfer. Given that it can take me up to thirty minutes driving, I'd say the bus wasn't that bad.
What made it interesting, though, is that I saw more minorities on my bus than I have just about anywhere else, at least outside an organized "students of color" event. The truth was startling. It made me wonder, Where do I hang out, that it's taken me three years to see more than three minorities in one place at one time? Who are my friends? Where do we work? As much as I wanted to think that the United States is a prosperous nation that's become more and more egalitarian, the reality is that there is a color to money.
And then it occurred to me: these people I ride the bus with, they probably do it everyday. It's not some fun eco-experiment/lovers' bet that they're trying. They have to take the bus. They depend on the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority to deliver them to work and to school so they can provide for their families. If a bus breaks down or is late, that can have heavy consequences.
That truth startled me even more.
What made it interesting, though, is that I saw more minorities on my bus than I have just about anywhere else, at least outside an organized "students of color" event. The truth was startling. It made me wonder, Where do I hang out, that it's taken me three years to see more than three minorities in one place at one time? Who are my friends? Where do we work? As much as I wanted to think that the United States is a prosperous nation that's become more and more egalitarian, the reality is that there is a color to money.
And then it occurred to me: these people I ride the bus with, they probably do it everyday. It's not some fun eco-experiment/lovers' bet that they're trying. They have to take the bus. They depend on the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority to deliver them to work and to school so they can provide for their families. If a bus breaks down or is late, that can have heavy consequences.
That truth startled me even more.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Public transport
Every morning, I ride the bus to Barbri school. As does the Captain. [FN1] Since an unlimited-ride pass costs only $59 each month, and since filling up on gas costs just as much each week, the Captain and I have decided to see how long each of us can go without driving our cars.
And like any functional couple, we've made it a competition. I don't know what the prize is, but it'll be good. Especially once I win it.
------
FN1. I've tried renaming him - it won't work. He appeared first as the Captain, and now the name's stuck among our friends. So the Captain he remains.
And like any functional couple, we've made it a competition. I don't know what the prize is, but it'll be good. Especially once I win it.
------
FN1. I've tried renaming him - it won't work. He appeared first as the Captain, and now the name's stuck among our friends. So the Captain he remains.
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