Tuesday, September 15, 2009

What NOT to wear

Once upon a time....there was this lady who forgot how to dress with taste. She woke up one morning and didn't even know what size she wore.

Apparently some tainted frog prince that she had kissed on the previous day had cast an evil spell on her.

When she looked in the closet, what she saw vs. what was actually there, were two totally different things.

She pulled out a beautiful cobalt blue dress that looked great with her complexion and offset her auburn shoulder length curls exquisitely.


With a smile on her face and a extra swing of confidence in her hips, she put on this lovely "new" dress.

Stepping in front of the mirror, she was rewarded with a vision of beauty from her head to her toes. Lustrous bouncing curls...peaches and cream skin, buxom bosoms followed my that hollywood hourglass figure... shapely legs and petite ankles.

Low and behold, in the closet were a pair of the perfect shoes to offset those delicate feet...


She was thrilled with herself.

And off she went to begin her day.

Walking down the street with her bag stroller


Full of her knitting and lunch and other daily necessities.

And onto the bus she stepped.

No one could take their eyes off of her. Thus boosting her moral all the more.

Little did she know that what she had actually put on that morning was a bumble bee dress, 2 sizes too small (causing the ever dreaded sausage effect)...with a black belt around her non existent waist.


except for when she sat down and it transformed into a belt around her breasts.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Are buses gross or the people?

Well, I had a reprieve from my bus riding for a while. As nice as it is to have a car with me at all times, I think I enjoy that down time while on the bus...no hassles, no traffic...just me and my blackberry....poking around the net for 30 minutes or so.

And now I'm back. For some reason I have that old funny version of the Queen song...Another One Rides the Bus (crap, thats what I should've named this blog! duh) floating through my head.

Anyways.....I think the hardest part about riding the bus, are the gross things. They aren't apparent on a regular basis, but there are times......

Smelly homeless crazy guy.... You can smell him across the isle, while he sits there with a trade magazine....crossing off ad sections with his marker, for what ever reason...and ends up crossing out the whole page, section by section, and ripping the page out then throwing the pages on the floor. I wonder if in his crazy little mind, he thinks he's doing something important?

And there's the poor working man who has his lunch (I assume?) in a black plastic bag...with some mysterious liquid dripping from the bottom. Onto his shoe. Onto the floor. His pant leg..oooh god, NO don't swing that bag over here!!!

And then there's the highlight of my ride this morning. The guy across from me...wiping something red on the palm of his hand, until the red disappears. Oh...that was blood. niiiiice. His elbow is bleeding a tiny bit. Apply pressure with your finger...good idea. Oh wait..no no no...don't rip the scab off!! Ewww...scab is being held between the forefinger and thumb....

Where will it end up???

On the floor?

Over his shoulder, behind the seat?

Casually flicked into oblivion?

Wiped off onto the seat?

No....Let's drop it into....

his LUNCH BAG!!!



Saturday, August 1, 2009


I took the regular bus a block from my house to the Orange Line one day. My daughter was with me. The Orange Line stops right at the college she attends and I wanted her to know how to get to school without me. She had been, and still is, really reluctant to take public transportation but she doesn't have a car. Beggar's can't be choosers, right?

What happened next made it more difficult to convince her that it was O.K. to take the bus!

Damn crazy man!

This was my first time taking the Metro Bus. Wow......what an experience.

We got to the bus stop in plenty of time. Much to my daughters irritation. Heaven forbid we wait for 10 minutes. And the horror of standing at a bus stop. I swear, she stood behind the bus stop so know one driving by would see her.

Can you say prima donna?

The bus stopped. We got on. Dropped our $1.25 each, into the money collector thingy (I have noooo idea what those things are really called) and promptly found two empty seats.

There was a rather old man sitting fairly close to us and he was mumbling about something. At first I didn't pay much attention. I was just trying to get my bearings and figure this new experience out.

Then I heard a few detached words.....hand. fingers.....alive.

hmmm....what the hell?

I didn't want to stare but I HAD to look.

This old man, in his mexican accent was talking to his hand? or maybe to anyone who would listen.....saying....

"They're alive!!"

What? what's alive? (I must pay more attention....what is this man talking about??)

Then my phone "vibrates". Who would be trying to contact me at 7:30 a.m.?

A text......from my daughter. Who's sitting RIGHT NEXT TO ME!!!

"Mom....who is that man talking to????"

LMAO!!! my reply..."I have noooooo idea!!" ***send***

So I listen some more. And observe more closely. And see him massaging his wrist and hand as he stretches his fingers....all the while he's proclaiming....


OMG!!! I'm on the bus with a crazy man!!

He proceeds to explain (to whom ever happens to be listening) that as long as he keeps massaging his wrist and hand, that his fingers will return to life!

Oh great! Now my daughter will never use the bus!! And I'm not so sure I want to either. I mean the old man is harmless but still. It's too early for this shit! Really. It is. I mean my day is just beginning. Please tell me this isn't a sign of how the day ahead will unfold.

And old man? Please stop talking to the bus driver cuz he keeps turning around to answer you so that he knows for sure you can hear him. And to be honest, I'd rather the driver look ahead while he's driving this big bus along these pot-hole ridden roads and avoids crashing into a parked car.

And old man? I'm not so sure you completely understand what the bus driver is saying cuz I think he's sorta making fun of you. And all the other mexican occupants. Because his final question was...."You don't understand a word I'm saying do you? Maybe you should learn English before you ask me questions. It might be helpful."

Ouch! (but true)

But Mr. Bus Driver....have a little heart. This old man is trying very vigilantly to resuscitate his dead fingers. I think they died in Vietnam. If you listen close enough, I think that old man has a whole conspiracy theory wrapped around his life (and dead fingers).

And he's trying to convince us that it's true. I believe he will only be happy if we were all massaging our wrists and hands.....as we resuscitate our dead fingers.

For some reason...the word "Zombie" keeps coming to mind.

Must find another route. FAST!

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Clowns Really ARE Scary!

It's a Friday evening and the bus is loaded with people. Standing room only. Yours truly was lucky enough to have a seat. No bus poll dancing for me that night. (you can thank me later)

I'm reading a book and notice out of the corner of my eye some really odd looking, rather large lime green and white shoes....wtf???

My eyes slowly move up.....

Striped red and white socks

Short blue pants with white stripe up the side... red suspenders

Red and blue striped shirt

Smeared white makeup

Half of a red exaggerated smile (the rest looked like he had a stroke during the application and then forgot to finish wiping it off)

Short brown hair, sticking up everywhere. Not sure if that was on purpose or just from a long day.

Then he opened his mouth and you couldn't understand a word he said. I think he thought he knew english.

I have my serious doubts.

I really felt sorry for the cute young, newly married couple across from me. This deranged clown kept trying to talk to them. The couple was so polite...bless their hearts...they kept shaking there heads. And the clown pressed on

The heads kept shaking NO. The poor gal even started to get this worried, apologetic look on her face like she wants to say..."Please....I don't understand and I don't want you to look at me anymore...stop talking, I really can't understand a word you're saying!"

furtive glance at hubby...that pleading look that says "doooo something!!"

Then he reached into a bag......while babbling in his horrible, still not understood englishy language. "amay for ju annie mabayoon"

I was getting a little nervous. What do scary, crazy ass clowns keep in their bag of tricks?

He pulled out....

a balloon. Of course. duh.....balloon animals anyone? Dude, we're on a bus, trying to get home from work...we're tired, its the end of the day, the end of the WEEK. This isn't a 7 year olds birthday party (btw, that 7 yr old would've ran to his room crying after one look at that clown).

I seriously wish I had thought to take a picture of this guy.

He was relentless...he kept looking around the bus trying to talk people into one of his animal balloons.

hmm...instead of averting my eyes, frantically avoiding eye contact...I should've let him make one for me. Now that hes long gone and of no threat, I'd be curious to know what kind of balloon animals a scary ass clown makes....great white sharks? vampire bats? wolverines?

oooh....maybe he makes rattlesnakes....that'd be more his speed.

Lets just get this clown off the bus before he trips someone with those damn shoes.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Here's Your Sign.....

Nope...I didn't have any smelly people on the bus ask me what my sign is. Although when I looked at them, I envisioned special signs around each of there necks....

* girl with wet hair, wearing too much Amber Romance - "Wannabe Future Herbal Essence Star"
*smelly old man going home to his wife - "Wife Repellent"
*unbathed kids - "Future Germaphobic"

However, there are other signs...both visible and invisible. And lets not forget the visible ones that are selectively invisible, apparently.

Case in point: The Orange Line has its own road. For buses only! No traffic, no idiots on the road to deal with. (just idiots on the bus)

At least thats how it should be.

On my way home there was a police car parked in the bus lane at one of the stops. Not a normal occurrence (when police visit the stops, they park somewhere else).

hmm...whats that ahead of the police car? A car! A regular everyday street car.

Getting a ticket.

Because he didn't see the HUGE ass sign?

What part of DO NOT ENTER did he not understand?

Here's Your Sign!

What about invisible signs. Or...actions....expressions? Mixed signals?

The little walking person is going in the same direction as the arrow.

It says not to walk, but to use the crosswalk. Should I......skip?

Then there's the man in the wheelchair, dressed in black leather pants, black vans, tatoos. Kinda looked like a washed up hair band member (drummer would be my guess since he played the air-drums the whole time). Did I mention that he was maybe in his 60's? and had straw like black died hair? It seemed that....his legs worked fine. He zooomed (literally zoomed, almost knocking the old lady down in front of him) his wheelchair into place and then proceeded to use his legs to brace himself from rolling forward at each stop. He even stood up once. I dunno about you, but that was a little bit confusing.

What about the guy that frowns at you the whole time he's staring at your breast? Guess he's not real happy about what he's looking at. (Then STOP looking!!)

Be careful about that seemingly polite man who offers you his seat. Especially when he stands right in front of you. Where do you look??? (Can't he go stand in front of a blind man or something?)

I no longer try to have conversations with other people on the bus. (first of all, you discover that they have bad breath the minute they open their mouth) Ever since I talked to a very nice older woman who looked at me and gave me the sweetest smile, nodding her head as I talked. Come to find out...she didn't understand a bit of english. Photobucket

Maybe now I know who to tell my deepest secrets too.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Smellies on The Bus

Whenever you get a large group of people together, there are going to be smells....scents, odors, good, bad and just plain ugly.

Guess what people! You have control over some of this. Water and soap will take care of a majority of the problems. Moms....bathe your kids! Wives....good lord, how can you live with that smelly man?! Tell him. For the love of Pete (or for Pete's sake.). Geeze, forget Pete.....do it for ME!

When you see a homeless person, you just automatically breathe a little shallower until you're out of their odorous range. When you see a laborer at the end of the day....you can bet that smell is body odor, not onions. (But go ahead, keep fooling yourself. I know...it's always easier to think that you're smelling onions).

It's those in betweens that get you. The old man with a nicely pressed shirt, who apparently doesn't believe in deodorant. Look mister, you're no longer living in a 3rd world country. Deodorant is sold on every corner. Shit, you can even buy it from your local liquor store or 7-Eleven. You're in America and as a general rule here, we shower more than once a week! You just might even be one of those people who should shower more than once a DAY!! (imagine that! Showering on a daily basis). Yup....turn that knob and water comes out 24 / 7 (provided you've paid your water bill of course).

It's the little boy and little girl who seem to be wearing clean clothes but as they sit next to me, it becomes obvious that bathing has been absent in their bedtime routine. A second look at mom tells me she's a little off. One of those older moms that kinda remind you of a different era....60's perhaps? Prim and proper and a little to attached to polyester. And why is this little boy, who appears to be pushing 3 years old, still drinking for a bottle? I'm thinking a little therapy might be in his future.

But not all odors are created equal. The minute I stepped on the bus, my senses were bombarded with a familiar scent.....Amber Romance by Victoria's Secret. Which use to be one of my favorites. Until I discovered that the girl, seated 10 rows behind me....ya, the one with the wet hair, has bathed in the stuff. My suspicions were confirmed when the air was clear the moment she got off the bus. Hasn't anyone ever told her that too much of a good thing is bad? I wonder what scent she was trying to cover up? Not that I ever really want to know for sure.

Then there's the inevitable. That distinct, disgusting, unmistakable little thing they call flatulence. The (sometimes) silent gagger (although when you're on a bus the noise will always drown out the sound)....and you have NO idea where it came from....who did it? You can't even be sure who to frown at or get away from. And all the while, you're just praying to God that the people around you don't think it was from YOU! Photobucket

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Slow Bus

Have you ever seen a bus driving down the street, going less than 5 miles an hour because the guy in front of it was.......


Yep...you heard me right. A guy in one of those motorized wheelchairs decided to bypass the wheelchair accessable sidewalk and zoom down the middle of the street instead. And not just any street mind you. But the street where all the buses enter and exit the North Hollywood bus terminal. Talk about a traffic jam. Guess he figured his little ole chair had enough g-forces to withstand the caos of everyday traffic and could hang with the big boys.

Apparently wind in your hair can be deceiving.

I suppose the old guy made it. I didn't see him again after he zipped around the corner with a couple of buses fast on his trail.

I hope the bus drivers didn't get a ticket for tail-gating. Or would it be the wheelchair driver that got the ticket?

. o O (Do wheelchairs have break lights?)

Friday, July 3, 2009

The Hazzards of Sleeping on the Bus

There's something about traveling in a car, in a plane...and apparently on a bus, that makes you want to close your eyes and drift away. I guess its that constant droning of the engine and the gentle (and sometimes not so gentle) rocking.

Sleeping in a car is easy (hopefully you're not the one driving), its your family car and you're with people you know. Sleeping in a plane is acceptable and sometimes expected. Long flights, long days, long nights....heck, they even give you pillows.

But sleeping on a bus (unless its the greyhound bus going cross country) is....I dunno.... irresponsible?

Every morning I see at least one person sleeping on the bus. How can they do that? How do they know when to wake up?

And what do you do if the guy next to you starts snoring! Photobucket

I've seen a student jump out of his seat after dozing off and realizing he'd missed his stop. hmmm....did he get detention for being late...possibly, again?!

I've seen grown men wake with a startle, looking around as if they're lost, wondering what stop is next....did they miss their stop too? When they get to work late, I wonder if they'll admit that they fell asleep or if they'll blame it on the transit system..."The bus was late."

And what about the things that a sleeping person does, besides snoring? The more embarrassing things....drooling? .......farting? Of course that stench could be coming from the lady next to the sleeping man but what a great scape goat....blame it on the sleeping man. After all, he can't really deny it, can he?

Don't you just love the public.

What if someone stole your stuff while you were sleeping? Guess that could be a new excuse for the student who didn't do his homework..."Someone stole it on the bus while I was sleeping". That's way better than "the dog ate it".

I've missed my stop one time! And it wasn't because I fell asleep. I was just too busy texting and didn't pay attention to where we were. But when I got to work, I just told them...

"Sorry I'm late. I fell asleep on the bus."

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Common Courtesy and a Few Tips

The general public is rude, inconsiderate and basically unconscious. Now I'm not saying that everyone is like that. I'm not even saying that someone is always like that. But when you get people out in the public forum.....there's always someone in "general public" mode (I'm guilty...I've been there too). But some things just should not happen......

1. Talking on the phone in public in your outdoor voice.
Just because you can hardly hear the person your talking to cuz of the loud noise on the bus doesn't mean that they can't hear you....there's NO reason to yell. Cuz seriously, I'm 15 or 20 seats away from you and I really don't want to hear what your dumb ass brother did to his girlfriend over the weekend. Nor do I want to hear you YELL sweet nothings into the phone while talking to your boyfriend.

2. Coughing in public etiquette.
When in public it is always advised to cover your germ spewing mouth while coughing. Especially when the general public is petrified of the Swine Flu. And you stupid-ass lady two seats away....when you cover your mouth....you're suppose to COVER your mouth. Putting your hand on your cheek next your mouth while coughing doesn't DO SHIT!!

3. Giving up your seat for the elderly.
When you see a 60+ year old lady, especially on a bus, standing up, you should give up your seat so she can sit down. Ya, I'm talking to you, you stupid wanna be gang member punk ass shit head kid. Get off your ass and let that little old lady sit down! I'd offer my seat but it would be harder for her to walk all the way down here than it would be for her to just have YOUR seat! Besides, I'm almost a little old lady myself.

4. Cussing in public.
Not that I don't cuss. And I'm not saying I don't cuss in public. I'm just a little picky about where I am and who's around me when I cuss. For example, when I'm around my grandmother, I don't cuss. When I'm around children, I don't cuss.
There was this really huge ugly guy sitting next to a really old tiny lady. His cellphone rang and instantly he started cussing....fuck this, bitch that, shit, fuck, damn, fuck, dumb ass...etc etc. After a minute of listening to that I realized he was talking to his girlfriend. Calling HER those names. He was complaining about her getting mad at him for not being able to talk every time she calls. Apparently he's a busy guy and can't always talk on the phone at the drop of a dime.
There are several issues I have with this scene. The poor old lady who's sitting next to him (she must've been pushing 80) who has to hear his charming verbiage, close up and almost personally. Did I mention they were sitting 3 seats away? And he had one of those booming voices. I really wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up!! But after looking at him....ummm....he was probably twice my weight (and I'm no skinny bones jones)....and since the next stop was the last stop, I knew he was getting off at the same stop I was and I really didn't want to have to get my ass kicked by some wacked fat guy. Whooo, btw should be jubilant that he even HAS a dumb ass, fucking bitch of a girl friend. Cuz to be honest, you couldn't pay me enough to go out with his obese ass, let alone call him my boyfriend.

5. Body odor.
If you haven't showered in days.....PLEASE do not get on my bus. Hell, you shouldn't even be out in public. Your clothes are clean. Your shoes don't have holes in them, so I know you're not homeless. Even if you ran out of soap....water, just water is better than nothing! If YOU can smell you, then trust me.....so can the rest of us!

Ok...I feel soooo much better now that I've gotten that off my chest. Either that or I just feel better cuz I've had a glass or 2 of Limoncello. mmmm.....Lets just say its a combo thing and call it day cuz I'm really tired.

Monday, June 29, 2009

What to do for 45 Minutes?


It takes about 45 minutes (give or take) to go from one end of the valley to the other, via the "Orange Line". Which is great cuz it takes about the same amount of time to drive it. It's only $1.25 each way. That's quite a savings in gas....car payment.....auto insurance.

Its the getting to and from the bus stops that takes up so much time.

Speaking of time. What do you do while you sit in that bus waiting for your stop? I'm an avid reader. I always have a book on hand that I'm reading. So I started bringing my book with me. The time really flies by when you're enjoying a good book (especially when you look at the clock and its 3:00 am and you still don't want to put the book down, no matter how much your eyeballs want to fall out of your head).

One minor issue.....

Maybe I'm old fashioned....I dunno....

But a lot of the books that I read and really enjoy are historical romances. They're light hearted....sometimes funny (depending on the author) and, I dunno.....they're everything reality isn't.

So whats my point? Ummm...have you ever seen the covers of those books? They have these half clad women with their breasts bursting from the tops of their gowns....begging to be touched. Or....those Fabio men, wearing leathers, arming a sword...promising to save your life one minute and in the next, to love you like no one else can, with those rippling stomach muscles and piercing eyes..and lips that you can only imagine what they're capable of......


uuuuh ummmm....sooo........what was my point? (is it hot in here?). errrr...Oh ya. Reading such books in public. I'm a grown woman in the 21st century....yet I do not want those strangers on the bus to know what I'm reading. I find it embarrassing. An invasion of my "privacy".(?) And they can soooo tell what I'm reading just by glancing at the cover.

One of my fears is reading a really hot sex scene in public and to glance up and discover the person sitting next to me is reading over my shoulder!!!! I'd die a thousand deaths!

Normally, to get past this weirdness in my head, I bend back the cover of the book so no one sees. I ignore that I might look suspicious. I tell myself in my head that if they can't see the cover, and they don't pay attention to the fact that I've totally bent and f'd up the cover of my book...then I'm safe.

Until the next book.

Crap! The front AND back have a half nude woman on it. AND the book is RED!!!! Red screeeeeaaams.....SEX!!!


shit. shit. shit.

I can't cover the book with a paper bag like we use to in school. That would look even MORE suspicious. No matter how I hold the book, someone will see the half naked woman (and maybe the hot hero). And heaven forbid if I looked like I was enjoying the book toooo much. I mean...what if I smiled cuz something was funny? They'd think I was smiling cuz the story was sexy and I was getting all hot and bothered!

Thats all the weirdo's on the bus need....thinking they're watching some middle class, middle aged woman enjoying a sexy, hot, historical romance novel in public.

But really...I'm only smiling cuz the author wrote something funny. I swear! really I was.

ok....so I totally over think it. But I can't help it.

So I leave the book at home and begin my people watching.....while posting on my blackberry....and wow...the things that I see, hear, and notice? Holy CRAP!!! I don't even miss reading my red hot romance novel when I have real life happening right in front of me.

Friday, June 26, 2009

My First Experience (the first time is never as good as they say)

I live in the glorious San Fernando Valley of Los Angeles County, California. Under circumstances that were not foreseen, I have been....pushed or forced into relying on the good ole public transit form of commuting to work. I'm in my 40's and I think I've ridden the public bus once in my life, back when I was 17.

Which no longer counts.

So...my first day on the Orange Line Bus, going to work, I had NO idea what the hell I was doing. I knew where I had to go, but I had no idea how to go about getting there.

So I got on. Looked around and realized there were no available seats.


I stood, holding onto a pole and tried not to fall on my ass each time the bus accelerated. It was probably the worst "pole dance" ever performed, or witnessed in case anyone noticed.

I was in the back of the really long bus that reminds me of a caterpillar and I couldn't hear the conductor or recorded stop announcements. Very stressful as I stood there in my boots and slacks with my purse and backpack (with lunch, coffee and water inside) trying not to land on my ass or in someone else's lap....I'm positive thats not considered a lap dance although the quality would equal my preceding pole dance.

Oh...and there's this cord thing that you're suppose to pull when your stop is next, so the driver knows to stop. Hmm...they don't automatically stop at every stop? ooook.....guess I'll have to learn the route.


And start learning how to pull a cord. That I can't reach from my pole (new found bff)

After much anxiety and a very stressful 30 minutes, I got off the bus at the correct stop and found my way to work. A minor mile stone.

But the real fun didn't begin until my ride home.

The final destination going home, is a crappy city called North Hollywood. The city has tried to make it more "trendy" and less scary by calling parts of it NoHo. WTF? Its a disgusting, dirty, run down, ignored part of Los Angeles County and the ONLY thing it has in common with Hollywood is that its NORTH of there. Thats it. The End.

Its a slum. They have shootings there at night.

So....coming home, I have to take the bus to the "NoHo" district and have my husband pick me up and take me home. Home Sweet Home. I hate that the beautiful city I live in brushes shoulders with North Hollywood.

Anyways....on that memorable first ride home, as the bus was pulling into the layover station in the "lets put icing on shit and call it cake" area that we fondly call NoHo....what do I see but a 1/2 dozen cop cars and just as many if not more, cops standing on the platform waiting for us.

US! The bus. The people ON the bus. I glanced around and wondered....Holy CRAP!! Are the cops here to bust a bunch of gang members? How do I get out of here before this shit comes down??!!!

I rose as everyone else on the bus rose. Only I noticed I was the only one in a near panic! Was everyone else just so use to this? Did this kind of thing happen all the time? Doesn't anyone care that a shootout could happen at any moment? We're on a bus full of GANG MEMBERS people!! Helloooooooo!!!!

As I got off the bus I expected the cops to grab all those gang-member-looking-hoodlums I thought I notice in the back of the bus. But no...one cop was coming towards me! Saying something TO ME!! What? I'm not a trouble maker! Don't you see those tattoo wearing, greased hair, bandana headed, scary looking guys? You're going after the wrong person!!!!


You want to see my bus pass?!

OOoooooh. Sure...it's right here.

Thank you for not giving me a $200 fine.

Bummer for that guy over there by the cop car. And why is he in handcuffs? It's only for a bus pass for God's sake. Isn't it? We'll give him the benefit of the doubt and just say that he has never paid his $1.25 bus fair for the past year and has more than a dozen violations.

Ya, that sounds much better.

Cuz you can't assume that every scuzzy guy with a tattoo, greasy hair and bandana is a gang member. Unless you're on T.V. of course.