day 26

it’s 3 days shy of a month and here I am looking back on my posts and yes I have been productive and creative but I have not posted anything utilizing my one craft that I went to school for or use everyday; writing.

here’s where the tricky part comes - how can I gracefully transition writing about writing to writing about something else? How about I tell you about my crazy bus? (that was easy)

Since moving to St. Paul, MN I have come to love owning a house, having a yard (I am sure I will enjoy this more once I get my garden growing) and being able to place my sewing machine in a stable place e.g., not on the kitchen table when I need it for 5 minutes. But the one thing that I have come to loathe is riding the bus.

I was used to riding the ’suburban bus’ when we lived in Eagan, MN. The seats were cushy. It smelled nice. The bus was always the right temp. And, most of all, the people looked and smelled like me. The commute was a bit longer than I would have liked (40 minutes) but at least I was comfortable and I never had to drive (the bus station was 3 blocks from our apartment).

Before we bought our house, I did a lot of research on buses, shopping centers, libraries etc. to make sure it was the right location (I really need a library within a few blocks of me!) Along with that, I planned my bus route. If I were to drive 10 minutes, I could catch yet another ’surburban bus’ and leave my car at the park n’ ride. But if I didn’t want to drive (which is a lot because of the weather and time) I walked 3 blocks, caught a bus to downtown St. Paul (2 miles away) then caught another bus to downtown Minneapolis (where I work). The commute time was about 35 minutes if my connectors line up but most of the time they don’t. That’s when I end up with the creepers downtown at the bus station.

Everyone knows, no matter where you are in a metro area, the main bus hub is going to be scary. Filled with ‘professional bus riders’ you get your fair share of looks and smells that’s for sure. One thing I cannot stand is stale smoke and unfortunately, when it’s cold in Minnesota, that’s what people do - smoke. All the time. Right before they get on the bus and then save the rest of the cig they can’t finish then sit next to me. Urgh.

Along with the smokers, the buses smell so bad. A city bus smells like feet, candy, smokes and bodies….Indian food, McDonalds, wet dog…I could go on and on.

One of my first days riding the bus, a guy sat next to me, then moved a seat and started saying “Elizabethan” over and over. Yet another morning (6:45am) a lady got on at a stop with a 40oz in her hand - 1/2 full. Surely that isn’t legal. I know there is a site online http://www.bustales.com/ to submit your crazy tales and believe me, if these keep up, which I know they will, you will see my submissions on there a lot.

I can’t crab about it too much though and I try not to because really, it’s nice to have someone drive you to and from work even if the people riding along with you aren’t polished or demure. Plus it’s cheap and is a step in the right direction for the environment.