Bus Rides, Bento Boxes

Laid a lucky penny on a Buddha’s lap.

The men and women on the public transit– they didn’t look happy. They looked stuck. Why do we do this to ourselves? Never settle. It’s never too late to jump out into the world. It’s always waiting for us. It’s part of us.

Was thinking on the light rail though– looking out the window— how I’ll never have any passion or focused job greater than writing and travel and change.

No love greater.

Not greater confidant, comfort, purpose.

Nothing lonelier than it at times…

*Literally at this moment two women walk up to me and start telling me their lives stories.

…Nothing lonelier than it sometimes, but isn’t that the way with all loves?

A 55 year old short haired loud and foul mouthed hipster woman straight outta the hippie movement in the 60s, and rolling with the times getting fitting chunky black square frame glasses on her tiny body begins to tell me and the girl standing next to me everything.

I think the only words I put into the conversation were, “What are you doing in San Francisco?” No one ever asked me what I was doing in San Francisco, but if they had I should have told them: THIS. Meeting characters like you and then proceeding to write about you once you walk away.

Ha. ; )

“I’m headed to San Franciso to meet my girl crush from the 70s. Used to pole dance together. I told my boyfriend not to worry, won’t be pole dancing or rekindling old flames, just going to play a bit of drunken poker with my 12 year old nephew in Salsalito and visit my daughters. My daughter just got her septum pierced, that nose ring that looks like a bull? I cried. Her girlfriend has 13 piercings though… only six of which you can SEEEEEEE. Let’s talk about nipple piercings for a little bit, ladies…” *Adjusts her big black widerim glasses and raises her eyebrows

WRITE characters daily. Go out and come in brief contact with characters. five minutes enough material for a whole character. Rule #1: don’t ever get weighed down by a talker like that for more than 5 minutes. But fucking enjoy the five minutes you get.

This is going to be the longest ride of my life.

It is 7:06 and we are finally getting on the freeway in San Francisco. We were supposed to be in Sacramento by now– the bus was an hour late, and then it took thirty minutes, still counting time actually, to get on the freeway.

Then there is a baby crying in front of me. But that’s not all of it. When we first got in the car thirty minutes ago, the mother changed the baby’s diaper on the seat in front of me. No open windows in this bus.

And then the people on the bus are getting super upset– haven’t seen it this busy in San Francisco since Christmas, what is happening? They keep asking. Crazy drivers– keep cutting the bus off.

And now we’re finally on the bridge. Estimated arrival time back in Sac for an hour’s journey: 9:30. It’s turned into a four hour ordeal.

Hope I make it back by 9:30.

3.3 mile jog to the Golden Gate Bridge the next day from my hostel, and then a 3.4 mile jog across it, and back across it.

I am absolutely exhausted. I kissed the ground when I got off that bridge.

Walked back 3.3 miles and now want to fall asleep.

Got sunburned again, of course. The one day I don’t use sunscreen. I can’t go a day without it this year.

Picked up by Jess and George at the light rail station at 9 am.

We go to Bento Box after they pick me up. And get sushi and noodles.

And then we drive home, and there is a huge projector movie screen, and movie playing against our front porch.

“What’s going on?”

“it’s the REI movie night.”

Of course.

Walk up on our front porch. Wave at the twenty to thirty REI workers sipping on beer and watching some old movie. And walk into our lodge and brush my teeth. They’re trickling in as I brush my teeth– using the restroom.

Crazy life.

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