And now presenting, POETRY!

Laundry Day

The hem of her white dress is stained

Not only with memories, but with an ugly coal-black splat

She wore it to the airport and

The city welcomed her with a rainstorm

She dragged her dress through the angry wetness

Not enough money to wash the dress more than once

Gray hem, a shadow low on her backside

Dirty badge of air travel

Her granny tells her

You always wear that dress

She wore the dress on the airplane in defiance

She still loves her granny

The first time she wore the dress

The boy on the date said nothing about her nor the dress

She wanted him to say something, anything

But he was never good with words

The boy is gone and she kept the dress

Another boy told her she’s beautiful

She thinks he’s lying, that he’s referring to the dress, not her

His eyes were too bright to not be telling the truth

Scraping by on quarters and credit cards

For a pair of clean socks

Saturday is laundry day

Basement reading for class in between loads

She had once crammed too much in the washer to save money

The clothes had spilled out

Full of hot water and soap suds

She had scrambled on hands and knees across the cement floor

Dirtying the one pair of jeans she hadn’t put in that load

Frustrated and tired

Gathering stockings and shirts

The white dress wasn’t washed that week either

Clean clothes are a necessity in cold weather

Cacophony

His hands placed softly across her body

When can I love you gray rain more than laughter

Open skies in the ocean air

Remembering these times past, memories that she wants to hold on to

but knows that she can’t, she shouldn’t

Sandals in November, now boots in December

She brings him close

Do you love me more than candied apples (as I love the freckles on your nose)

Teasing, wanting, needing more than she asked for

Memories of home cut through the sharp winter squalls:

bluest of blues, cluttered sands and seagulls

Sitting on his lap, she rests her chin

in his chestnut curls

Paper boy, she laughs, I cut you out from a magazine

Whispers of sunflowers

Nostalgia of an absence together

faster

FASTER i scream

on the rollercoaster

in the car screeching down the 405

as i run down the street

whirlwind of time

dancing on cobblestones in fanueil hall

watching the seals dance in the water

bobbing with their self-justifiable smiles that

make the children love them so

Maybe, Maybe (Sunflower Thoughts)

You never bought me sunflowers

You never let me cry

You just rubbed my head like a poodle and said

Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.

You never knew what to say

When you said you loved me, it was a bold-faced lie

When I responded, only half of my heart consented.

You wanted to

resolve our issues

as if I was some sort of problem.

Maybe we were too young

Maybe we were too blind

Maybe I didn’t want to never leave you there, waiting.

I resolved our issues by letting you go

I had to wear the pants in our relationship because you wouldn’t

And I was never one to allow stupidity to hang its hat by the door.

Now I miss you and I don’t know why.

You never bought me sunflowers.

You never let me cry.

Forgotten Leftovers

why would anyone need me, ever,

even on a whim

they disregard me for someone else,

thrown by the wayside like

a mattress left on the freeway

a set of hot curlers

they don’t need me; they’ll find someone else

they always do

i don’t tend to leave lasting impressions

and i’ve decided to run first this time

The Bus Drivers of Southern California

This edition of "SGGTPT" (okay, not the shortest, nor the best acronym ever, but I'm trying) will concern the drivers of the Southern California bus system. In the six month period that I consistently was on the bus in southern California, I took note of three times of bus drivers. 


1. the strong, silent type
Mostly male, these drivers do everything by the book. From the time they take off, to getting riders on and off the bus, a driver of this caliber will be more likely to use the turn signal, not run red lights, and ask that riders get on and off the bus in an orderly manner. Unfortunately, if you have a question, it's more than likely you'll be unable to get an answer. This is because these drivers believe that you should already know which bus you're on, what direction it's headed in, and where you should get off for your next stop. Or in some cases, I believe the driver may have been mute. Thankfully this type of driver will not take bullshit from anyone and will keep, for the most part, the creepy riders off the bus, or at the very least, confined to a particular area of the bus where they can be watched.  


2. the crazy, I'm-only-doing-this-because-I-have-to-driver
This type of driver is the one that you want to avoid as much as possible. A driver like this will never be on time; will take off from the curb so fast that if you're not sitting down, or in a stationary position, both your shoes and your gall bladder will be shot to the back of the bus; and will insist on telling you exactly why they hate their job, their life, etc. If you have this type of driver, good luck, because you might not make it to your final destination, but will know how thanks to sweet potato fries from New Hampshire the driver is now damned to a life of thankless public transportation.


3. the driver that everyone knows his/her name
Much like Cheers, everyone literally will know this driver's name. Riders may actually cheer as this driver approaches the bus. Personable and charismatic, you will want to get this driver for your ride. Always in a good mood (which may make you suspicious - what drugs are they taking, and how can you get ahold of them?), this driver seems to have no worries and is never irritated by anything or anyone. It almost makes riding the bus an enjoyable experience. 


Next time:
The bus drivers of the eastern seaboard

It's a New Month!

I received a fortune cookie on September 12th of this year which stated something like, "Remember this date three months from now". Well, three months obviously hasn't rolled by just yet, but until December 12th, I am going to think of this damn cookie and hope that it's not some cruel joke being played on me by the Fates. Shortly after I received this fortune, I managed to get another that said, "Everything will soon come your way." (And at this point, I realized that apparently I eat a lot of Chinese food.) Really, everything? If we're going to take this literally, then "everything" would include a new job, a book deal, and several other items that include my loans being paid off by a mysterious benefactor, a pancreatic transplant, and oh, what the hell, a puppy - why not? Again, hopefully the term "everything" was being used in a positive sense, and not a negative one, because then the apocalypse would be heading my way as well.


I'm not very fond of November. October I enjoy, and December too, of course, but as for November, I've always been indifferent about it. So boo to you, November. Maybe that book deal is right around the corner. 

The Essentials in the Bag for the Single Girl's Ride on Public Transportation: Part Two

Here are some more essentials that the Single Girl should have while riding on public transportation. Also, a few types of people that she might meet whilst riding on said transportation, and how to avoid them. 

• Hand wipes

Now I know what you're thinking: "Hand wipes are a thing of the past. We have something called 'hand sanitizer' in the twenty-first century." But you'd be wrong, my friend. I've tried hand sanitizer and you know what? IT JUST SPREADS THE GERMS AROUND IN A BIG STICKY MESS OF WHICH YOU CANNOT RID YOURSELF. Hand wipes are so much more easier to use for wiping away that indescribable green blotch on the windowsill next to you. Hand wipes, my friend, are a definite necessity. 

• Small bottle of perfume

You will come into contact with smelly people on public transportation. It is unavoidable. Sometimes you will be trapped on a small seat with them, unable to escape for extended periods of time. Luckily, if you have a spray bottle of something that smells better than the rank fish stench of the man sitting next to you, use it to your advantage, and covertly spray a mist of sweet, sweet Waterfall Breeze (or Pumpkin Spice, or Plumeria Explosion, or whatever scent from Bath and Body Works that floats your boat) and instead of passing out from the smell, you will instead be transported to a tropical paradise where all the smelly people are exiled to the far side of the island.

Now, for a short list of some of the people you will encounter on public transportation:

• the homeless

I have nothing against the homeless. While I am fortunate enough to have a home (for which I am very grateful), I get it. Not having a home sucks. Having to schlep all of your belongings everywhere you go sucks. Not being able to consistently take showers sucks. Having to scrape together a dollar and a half to take the bus or the train for a one-way trip sucks. I GET IT. So why every single homeless person in the greater Southern California area always decides to sit next to me, is beyond my comprehension. Therefore, I have devised two ways to avoid getting smashed in the back of a crowded bus during rush hour on a 105 degree day with the man that smells like a grease trap and mildew and the woman who is talking to herself and carrying everything she owns wrapped in a blanket that's made of fur. 

The first, if you're lucky enough to have a seat all to yourself, is to take up as much room as possible. Sure, it's rude, but you will learn quickly that this is what everyone else does when given the chance. Why should you be the one exception? If you have more than one bag, plop it down next to you. Jacket? Casually drape it over the entire seat, to give the impression that you may in fact be saving that seat. Remember how kids on the school bus used to do this? You knew damn well that Skippy McGee wasn't going to have anyone sitting next to him. He was just being a jerk and taking up the whole bench so you'd have to stand while trying to balance your government and chemistry books, along with your umbrella and lunch. This same idea applies to public transportation. If you do this, you're more than likely going to avoid anyone sitting next to you. The second option, while less desirable, does give you more flexibility to move from creepy and/or smelly riders. It is to stand. You can move from the smells, the children crying, the people coughing. If anyone tries to give you trouble, you can either glare them down, or move somewhere else. Sometimes you won't have a lot of space in which to move, so again, try to stake out your territory by taking up as much room as possible. Much like when faced with a bear in the wild, you must make yourself appear to be larger. Be aggressive if the man with an oozing nose is trying to move in on your space. Literally put your foot down. If it happens to be on his ankle and you're wearing stilettos, oh, well. You were there first.

• tourists

Again, I get it. You're in an area that is unfamiliar, you may or may not speak the language well enough to understand common vernacular, and you may in fact be traveling in the wrong direction from where you need to be headed. But please, for heaven's sake, do not distract the driver from taking off from the curb or platform, and keep us parked in one spot for twenty minutes while you ask for directions. Also, when the driver or any other passenger does tell you where you need to get off, or where to get the next mode of transportation, do not argue with them, as if you suddenly know everything about the area. The locals will try to get you to the right destination. We do not get our kicks by telling tourists from Uzbekistan or Idaho to take the wrong train or bus. We don't want you to end up at the Balboa Peninsula when you're trying to get to Disneyland, or have you at Revere Beach when your destination is the Boston Opera House. Just get on the damn bus, sit down, shut up, and eventually you'll get where you need to go. The Single Girl can avoid these folks by not meeting them in the eye, pretending not to understand what they're asking her, or to ignore them completely. This may again be rude, but do you really want to get sucked into a conversation with a tourist where your shoelaces end up missing at the end of the conversation, and you may or may not be part of a pyramid scheme to raise money for mountain goats?

More pearls of wisdom to come.

The Essentials in the Bag for the Single Girl's Ride on Public Transportation: Part One

As someone who has frequented public transportation on both coasts, I've decided to compose a list of things that any girl should have in her bag when on the bus or the train.

• Ear plugs

Now, the reason why I don't say an i-Pod, or any sort of that kind of device, is that you actually don't need the full system. If you have ear plugs in, any sane person is going to assume that it's connected to something in your bag or pocket, and you can pick up a pair for $10 at Target. Of course, having the i-Pod attached will help drown out the insane people that you will encounter on public transportation, so if you can invest in this sort of device, do so.

• Sunglasses

The bigger, the better. Avoiding eye contact with anyone is crucial. Also, when you're crammed onto the window seat during sunset, you can avoid temporary blindness. 

• A book

The less obtrusive the book cover, the less likely is it that someone will ask you what the book is about. Avoid Oprah's pick for book of the month, any book that currently is also playing as a feature in the theater, or anything that could potential spark conversation. I've tried with textbooks, and no go. Try covering your book with a paper bag. 

• A notebook and a pen

You will come in contact with weirdoes, freaks, and crazy people on public transportation. Chances are nine times out of ten you will try to forget these people, but there will be times where you will want to remember these people and the situations that involve them. It makes for great writing.


There we go - the essentials. More to be added at a later date. 

5 and 1/2 Minute Hallway/Introduction

I live at the end of a 5 and 1/2 minute hallway
But as far as I can see you are still miles from me
In your doorway

And oh by the way
When the landlord came today
He measured everything
I knew he'd get it wrong
But I just played along
'Cause I was hoping that would fix it all

But there's only so far I can go
When you're living in a hallway that keeps growing
I think to myself
5 more minutes and I'll be there

Inside your door
But there's more to this story
Than I have exposed
There are words made of letters
Unwritten
And yes I forgive you
For leading me on

You can think of it like this
When you can't resist
I'm in your hallway standing on a cliff
And just when I think I've found the trick
I'm tumbling
Like an echo

'Cause theres only so far I can go
When you're living in a hallway that keeps growing
I think to myself
30 seconds and I'll be there

Daughter:
You never listen to me

Father:
We cannot really experiment with love as freely as we wish
It is really a much more complicated topic 

~ Poe "5 and 1/2 Minute Hallway" from the album Haunted


As this is my first blog post, I suppose now would be the right time to state that I do not own the rights to the song "5 and 1/2 Minute Hallway", nor any affiliated information pertaining to said song. I look at the 5 and 1/2 Minute Hallway as the space for me to express my rants as a shopgrrrl, my "Single Girl's Guide to Riding Public Transportation", and any and all other ideas that I feel the need to put out into the ether. 


To quote another singer, Sierra Swan:


I'm  a mess 
I'm a fool
I'm a little bit cruel
I'm a liar 
And I'm a thief 
And a little bit weak.  


You have been warned.