Snob On a Bus

Ask for Directions and Get Going

2010-04-17T21:00:00.000-07:00

So today on the bus...

visual: Purple plaid lululemon jacket atop a grey pair of crops sit on the bus today. My Nike Dunks with the mismatched shoe laces tap vigorously as the bus fills way up. My purple aviators look around taking it all in today.

I sit on the bus today pondering life and its transitions. I am moving to Chicago in a week and somehow feel a pang of sadness for the LA Public Transit system. I stare at all the people rushing and packing on and wonder what I will learn today.

Some times the crowded days just teach me patience or how to zone out in the mess. But today, a beautiful thing happened, of course.

A younger gentleman was sitting across from me - nice button down, jeans, cool aviator glasses and some diamond earrings. Next to him sat an older woman looking nervous back and forth at street signs and in her purse back to the new stop request... After all the silent panicking, she finally gets up and goes to speak with the bus driver, asking for directions and travel information.

She comes back with a sense of relief and smiling. She sits down and leans over to her neighbor, nudges his shoulder - the cute guy, and informs him, "you know, some times you just have to ask to get where you are going".

He smiles and nods his head and they continue on.

I smile from behind my aviator glasses, too. She is so right!

We cannot get where we are going if we do not speak up, ask directions, and get to where we need to go! This goes for public transporation, but if you dig a little deeper - it is about life.

I secretly place this small but profound piece of advice in my transitional state of mind's backpocket. I have a funny feeling I am going to need this one.

Borrow it, if you like and get where you need to go.

Keep It Royal

2010-04-03T20:58:00.000-07:00

So today on the bus...

visual: Rocking my organic fibers care of lululemon athletica today, charcoal heathered grey pants with a purple long sleeve that somehow went well with my deep purple backpack and purple yoga mat. I know, its a lot of purple - but you'll see. My new and insane grey sweatpant material Nike Dunks high tops with yellow shoes laces step up to the 720.

I jump on the over-crowded bus today, thank my bus driver and stand right up front. I cannot even maneuver to a spacious double door spot, it was that 5pm end-of-day hour.

While staring down Wilshire Boulevard and willing people to get off at the next stop, a mid to older aged woman looks up from her book at me and says, "I love the purple you are wearing". I smile and thank her, noticing she is literally rocking ALL purple. Purple shirt, metallic purple windbreaker to purple socks! I, of course, comment that she looks great in her purple, as well.

We dive in deep. Talking about...purple.

Me: "You know, I hear when you wear a purple or lavender color, you should feel relaxed and so should all those around you. Do you?"

Purple Lady: "I do feel quite calm. I really do. But you know hon, purple is really the color of royalty".

Me (smiling): "You know, I was feeling royal today and almost do every day. So glad you reminded me".

Purple Lady: "Well, you keep feelin' that girl. Me too, me too".

We both laugh a little bit and she looks down to continue to read her book.

I smile while standing beside her. We must have looked like quite a vision all clad in every shade of purple - from deep to metallic. And after our conversation, I do feel that she sat a little higher on her bus seat...err, throne.

As we approach my stop, I lean down and say bye to my purple loving friend.

Purple Lady: "Oh bye dear. Keep it real".

Me: "How about we keep it royal?"

And with that we both laugh, high five and I jump off that bus strutting my royal stuff!

Going GREEN!

2010-04-01T15:32:00.000-07:00

Look what I bought today....

My new bright green, gas guzzling machine.

My new way to go GREEN!

APRIL FOOL's!

I am still snobbing on the 720!

A Quarter w/ Meaning

2010-03-20T21:35:00.000-07:00

So today on the bus...

visual: Living lightly and brightly, I rock my hot pink leg warmers today and a luluelmon athletica work out one piece. Yes, you read that right, a one piece. My new purple and white aviator-esque sunglasses peer down Wilshire to find my bus approaching right when I arrive.

I love when the bus arrives just as I step up to the bus stop. Its a simple matter in life, but for me that is something I get a huge kick out of.

On the phone today with my boyfriend in Chicago, I put him on hold and step in line. A wonderful older gentleman is standing aside letting all passengers go before him. He is wearing green corduroys and a white shirt with a beige waterproof jacket. It is probably closet to 75 degrees and sunny, mid afternoon and he is ready for a mild snow storm. Alas, I nod at him, step on the bus and greet my bus driver. I grab quarters out of my backpack and begin to drop them in. On accident, I drop six quarters instead of five.

I smirk and look up to my bus driver. I said, "that last quarter is for him" and I point to the winter wonderland behind me.

I rush to the back and tell the boyfriend I have bus adventures to find and get to my spot by the double door.

As I peer up, I see the corduroy-clad man stumbling in an old man demeanor back to the back towards me. He comes right up in front of me and looks at me straight in the eyes and asks, "But why? Why did you pay a quarter for me?".

I smile, tap his shoulder and say, "Oh, that. You were so sweet to let everyone on the bus go before you, just a little love back".

At first I thought he was mad at me or something. He looks down and shakes his white haired-head. He looks up with tears on his wrinkled eyes and says, "Thank you is not enough. It would never be enough".

I chuckle almost. So dramatic. I lean in, "Oh, well I think thank you is always just enough." And I tap him on the shoulder and he smiles and thanks me again and again.

He maneuvers himself up to the front rows and I stand smiling.

A quarter, 25 cents and he is thanking me twice over. You really never know what something will mean to someone. Maybe he just needed someone to care, and that was who I got to be for him in that moment. Or maybe, he only had one dollar and this was all in the timing.

Or maybe, it was just perfect.

An extra quarter fell from my hand. And I made the day of that old man.

Felt quite right. Felt quite right.

Give Time, It Gives Back

2010-03-15T10:16:00.000-07:00

So today on the bus....

visual: A black scoop neck athletic tank over my amazing and bright blue lululemon cropped leggings enjoy the sunshine as I walk to the bus stop. My flip flops meander across the cross walk and my green sunglasses look forward to the approaching St. Patty's day.

My stomach rumbles as I wait for the bus. I look back at the 711 Convenient Store, considering those damn taquitos. Maybe I will opt for a healthy selection. I run in and take a gander through the aisles and find myself somehow right back up front at the rolling hot dogs, burritos and taquitos.

I am on the phone with my best friend from college, Erin. She works at this cute bagel shop in the heart of our college town, Bloomington Bagel Company. Speaking with her always makes me crave a bagel-wich from there. Weird. Whilst on the phone with her, I am really hoping she will sway me to a healthy selection. She fails.

So, I am up front to aisle of unhealthy and there are these chicken tenders in this heated window box near the register. I go for it. Protein, right?

Now, the woman at cash is taking FOREVER and a day to ring people in. I mean, slow as molasses. I see a flash of red and there goes my bus. NO! I convey my disappointment of my timing to my friend and tell her I have to focus and call her back.

Waiting. Waiting. Of course, the gentleman in front of me needs cigarettes. She leaves the register in search of the requested brand. I am staring out the window. I will not miss the bus again!

Then, another gentleman standing in the door frame with his own coffee mug and sparkling glitterati belt yells to me, "I'll go hold the bus for you, if it comes!". And he runs out to the bus stop.

My mouth drops. Really? He must have overheard me complaining to my friend and offered to help. Amazing.

I walk out with my chicken tender in hand and convey my thanks and appreciation. I dwell on his compassion and he smiles and shrugs it off like its an every day occurrence. His name is Cletis and he lives up the block. Dressed in all black Armani Exchange and the fancy belt, he sips the 711 coffee out of his mug he carried down from home.

What a character. He comments on my athletic clothing and we talk about work outs in the area. He is very friendly and really has a beautiful presence and energy about him.

My bus approaches, I shake his hand and thank him so much for his help. I jump on smiling. Cletis went out of his way and took time to help me out. Who can I pay this forward to?

I sit near the back as the AC is blaring on the bus and I need a spot that is warm with the sunshine. I smile the entire ride and pass it on to those on the bus.

A gentleman approaches the rear exit and says "Hello". I say hi back and ask him how his day is. I know if Cletis can take time to hold a bus for me, I can take time to ask this man in the blue shirt how his day is going. Authentically.

His name was Henry and he was having a great day. He is a welder and passes me his construction card. It is a really beautiful card with a magnificent tree on one side, a blue background, and all his information listed. I tell him that I am yet to hold a business card of my own, but all in good time.

We exchange smiles and his stop approaches. We wish one another a great day and off he goes.

What a beautiful morning. Cletis, the friendly neighbor that offered his time and help, and Henry the welder with beautiful business cards.

In this moment, I feel like we all get wrapped up in time. "I don't have time". "I am too busy". All the stories we create for our realities. However, if we take a moment and give away time, be it for another or for ourselves, it seems to give back in so many ways.

The New and Healthy Way to Commute

2010-03-13T00:15:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: Bright as can be lululemon checkered running shorts, a lite blue tank, the green sunnies and my Asics jump on the bus today. My green iPod clips on my fanny pak and I let my head phones hang down to allow conversation - once I catch my breath - on the bus.

The morning seemed to slip away from me. My roommate left out Girls Scout cookies and Thin Mints were my breakfast of champions this morning with a delightful cup of homemade coffee. Emails, deliciously crunchy cookies, phone calls and life seemed to distract home longer than necessary. I had an early meeting planned and had to recalculate my bus timing.

How can I make this work? I now have 42 minutes to get to my destination and the Blackberry public transit calculations read I need over 1 hour to walk and bus. Eeek!

Solution! I put on my run gear and combined forces with public transit. A green workout!

I bound out of the house with my iPod shuffle rockin' my 80's run jams and five quarters clanking in my shorts pocket. Off to my 720 bus stop heading West to Santa Monica, I run.

I pop on the bus, remove my headphones and there I rock my stretches. Out of breath and happy for the ride to cut time, I greet my nearby passengers in between arm reaches.

A few stop later and I arrive close to the beach. Jump off and my run is back on.

An amazing morning in sunny California. I ran to the bus stop, bus route down to the Santa Monica beach, run along the boardwalk, and make it to my meeting. Thank goodness I work at an athletic company and can show up to meetings sweaty!

A workout and my bus life all in a morning's trip. Who knew?

A whole new and healthy way to commute!

We All Do Our Part

2010-03-07T20:33:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: Bad hair day called for my LA fitted baseball hat atop my green sunglasses, purple bamboo long-sleeve tee and navy lululemon leggings sit on the front of the bus on the way home.

The air is chilly today. I feel like LA is tricking us with these super sunny weeks and then chilly and somewhat drizzling weekends! This is not what I signed up for.

I sit in the front of my crowded bus this early evening and just relax.

There is a man in the back yelling about this and that. I swear I heard him yell: "I drank it! I drank the horse urine. I did! There aren't kids back here so I am just telling you....". And he went on and on about the horse urine. Not necessarily talking to anyone in particular. Just everyone and no one.

Horse urine? I just do not even know where that thought might have come from? You cannot help but listen.

My stop approaches and I exit the bus and thank my bus driver. They must hear the most interesting things on a full day of bus driving. I will write a poem for them soon...stay tuned. My 'Ode to a Bus Driver'....hell, I could be the next Shel Silverstein!

But for now, I leave the bus and head home in the chilly breeze.

As I turn the corner around the Veteran's Park, there is trash EVERYWHERE. I bend over and pick up a plastic bag rolling in the wind and put a couple items in it.

A white Honda Civic pulls over and rolls down the window, an English woman leans over and yells to me in her amazing accent, "That was a wonderful thing you did there. I was going to get out and do the same and you took care of it". I smiled and said, "we all do our part!". She threw me a thumbs up and drove off.

How lovely. She pulled over to thank me for taking care of our good Earth. That felt right.

We can all do our part. The bus drivers deal with us crazies (me being one of them), we give thanks where thanks is due, we pick up trash on the floor of the World, and we can be happy....every day.

Frequent Rider Miles?

2010-03-03T20:44:00.001-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: I rush to work today in my hot pink headband, purple-ish blue lululemon relaxed fit pants and an almost seafoam green jacket. Blackberry at my ears and blue flip flops on my seat, I await my ride.

It is a quiet day today. I am up early and the sun is just arising, but even so, the World seems to sleep in late today and the hustle and bustle has slowed down. It seems to make me slow down.

I wait for my bus and ponder my iPod. It sits bright and green in the pocket of my pants - yet, I leave it alone. My bus pulls up; I jump on and and bid my bus driver a wonderful morning. He responds with a whispered thanks. Quiet all over this place.

As I am riding, I look around the bus. What do we have here today?

Not too much. Sleepy passengers and loose windows banging with each pothole on Wilshire Boulevard.

I ponder the recent tips I have received about a TAP card and day passes, as I check my backpack for quarters for my ride home later today. The change thing can be a hassle. However, as of late, my Christmas presents and birthday presents have consisted of quarters. You think I am kidding, my Grandparents gave me a bag shaped as Santa Clause for Christmas full or quarters, and my Mom was in town last weekend and gave me a box of quarters for Valentine's Day. Creative, yes. Necessary, of course! Its pretty amusing when you see me open my gift and I am so happy to have all this silver....for the bus!

However, on that note, I began to wonder why the bus does not utilize a frequent bus rider program? Naive, maybe? Brilliant, possibly? Southwest, American Airlines, Cold Stone Creamery - they all have great incentives for your 13th flight free, or 10th cone on us! I think the Metro could take a tip!

Well, all this thinking became an action. I departed my bus ride and later that day emailed Metro.net. I informed them of the bus 'frequent rider program' idea and perhaps offering some type of incentive to get our city green and coax people to the fun that is Public Transportation! I signed my customer comment, Your Truly, "Snob On a Bus".

And wouldn't you know, they wrote me back!

Due to the number of transit public and the reduction in state/federal funding, is not possible to offer free rides. However, there may be discounts available using TAP cards on their website www.taptogo.net.

Metro Customer Relations(213) 922-6235

First and foremost, thank you to Metro Customer Relations for getting back to me so quickly and with additional information to explore. Impressive.

Second, I have visited www.taptogo.net and there are promises of incentives and discounts to come in the future. But as of right now, nothing.

I will do some research on state/federal funding - but as of right now, we have no punch card or 8th ride free....yet.

The Bus In a Snow Globe...Shake and Settle

2010-02-26T17:12:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: Brown herringbone lululemon Groove Pants, a hot pink fleece pullover and my neon vans wait for the bus today. I am plugged into my music machine, a green iPod shuffle that matches my bright green aviator-esque shades searching down Wilshire Blvd for my red shuttle to work.

It is a cooler day and I appreciate the crisp feeling in the air after a nice rain. We get into summer so fast in LA, I remind myself to marvel in the amazing colorful long sleeves and pullovers I have, while I still can!

My best friend had uploaded her music library to my iPod and I am just jamming walking to my bus stop. Old 80's jams and upbeat tunes usually rock my jogs - thus my iPod is full of them! As I approach the bus, I am intrigued by all the people with their headphones in or cell phones readily available in hand. No one is tapping their foot or dancing, but we all are tuned ... out, so it seems!

NOTE: I did an insane yoga class this morning. My mind is already in a haze as my body is still in cool-down mode from the heat of the class, deep movements and overall stress release.

The bus approaches and I tuck the headphones in my fleece. I drop in my quarters and acknowledge my bus driver - who also seemed a bit zoned out. Comforting.

It is the late morning, so my bus is rather full and there is good energy in here. I decide to run a little experiment. I am going to be that iPod-listening-bus-rider. I am going to plug in and zone out from people. See what all the fuss is about. What I miss and who I might overlook.

My hypothesis here is that I will miss all the action. Be literally tuned out from the reality and amazing happenings that occur daily on the bus. I will step off with a sense of failure and truly feel as if I have ignored the World.

So, I begin to relax into my seat and enjoy the ride. I find I am more observant and aware of the entire bus. I have my tunes in the background. I can see an older gentleman sharing conversation with a younger female student sitting behind him. I focus on the woman on her cell phone up front; she is on the phone yet literally reading her book at the same time! And the crew of friends that just walked on laughing and smiling over common interests.

It is almost my own meditation - as if I have my bus in a snow globe. Every bus stop, it shakes and the snow falls to grab my music-injected attention.

How interesting! I close my eyes and smile. I imagine myself in the snow globe and someone seeing me. Eyes closed, comfortable and smiling with my tunes in my ears. Maybe they smile. Maybe they change the song to find a happy place. What possibility am I for others - even when I am not directly connecting with them?

Oh, I am getting somewhere with this iPod project!

The indirection connection I am feeling with the entire bus is somewhat magical. Most buses are so silent, but today the 720 is rocking life. Friends in this corner, conversations here, multi-taskers there. Maybe it is my yoga buzz from earlier, but I am zenned out in the middle of Los Angeles on public transit, yet completely present and aware of my surroundings.

How is that?

Me? The busy body. I move and shake at all times....a mover and shaker! However, I found a peace of mind in one of the more crazier spaces in my life.

All along, I hypothesized I would be that typical ignore-the-people passenger. What I experienced was bus bliss! I found a different form of bus bliss! By tuning out, I literally tuned in to everything around me.

I step off the bus so happy. So light. Or maybe the yoga hippie life of Southern CA is getting to me - but whatever it is, I feel great!

I ponder this action in life. When you have so much going on and you are a mile a minute, if we step back, smile and drop any expectations - we might get a better and bigger picture of what is actually going on.

Appreciate it.

And let the snow globe of life keep shaking and settling....shaking and settling.

Beautiful.

Bus Transfers, My Civic Duty, and Real Connections

2010-02-24T19:38:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: Bright green avocado-colored lululemon jacket over a pair of gray, uncomfortable dress slacks, my purple backpack and my neon Vans rush down the block in the early morning hours. Jury Duty called and it is my civic duty to answer...for the bus I wait, to make the hour trek downtown.

My blackberry google application reads 1 hour and 12 minutes for my bus trip from Brentwood to the Criminal Justice Center in Downtown LA. I get to take my bus, the 720 and then transfer to a number of options listed.

If you will recall, I do not transfer. I never have transferred. And, today is the big day!

I trek to the bus before the sun is up. I wait at my normal stop in front of my 711 Convenient Store. The bus arrives right on time and I take a deep breathe for the long route ahead of me. I jump on, pay my toll and wish my bus rider a good morning. He has slicked back hair, a black jacket and a black and white herringbone scarf around his neck. He looked great and so suave. I let him know he has some great style.

The bus is quite empty, so I pull out the phone to see what my next stop is and what bus I should transfer to. I have no idea, so I approach my fancy bus driver for guidance.

He is the most helpful man in the World. He informs me that I will get off at Broadway and which bus to take thereafter. He even goes as far to say, "Don't worry, I will let you know which stop".

Sigh. I go back to my seat up front to sit comfortably and ride easy.

Not too much commotion on this bus this morning. Before 7am, not many people are out for a great conversation, much less awake. It is interesting going through the different neighborhoods. Observing Brentwood to Westwood, from Beverly Hills to Hollywood into Downtown; LA is full of such different pockets of life.

As we dive deeper into Downtown, my classy bus driver shouts that this is my stop and that I should head to the local bus 45. I thank him and exit his bus.

I google how far it is to actually walk to my final destination and it read 1 mile - I figure I have the time and I will save some change. The neon Vans start walking.

Alas, those neon Vans walked the wrong way. I have zero sense of direction. ZERO! Even with the Blackberry GPS, a flaw I have acknowledged fully and accepted. Another perk to riding the bus, I am not driving. It is really a perk for the World and everyone on the road.

So, I make the executive decision to wait the 2 minutes for this local bus number 45. I wonder if this bus is only .75 cents? I peek around downtown as I wait, which is rather disheartening. Our downtown in the city of Angels needs some real work. I love the streets with the tall buildings, rushing traffic on one way streets, and the somewhat older architecture. However, it definitely does not live up to the Petula Clark song, "The lights are much brighter there, You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares and go, Downtown, things'll be great when you're Downtown, no finer place for sure, Downtown, everything's waiting for you". Come one LA, pick up your game!

The number 45 arrives and I jump on. I ask, "how much?" and my driver responds, "$1.25".

Shucks, to go one mile!? I let go of another five quarters and jump on my transfer. A step of triumph as I step into the smaller bus - I find my seat up front. After a couple stops, it is one of those buses that stops EVERY other block, I ponder if I really could have walked faster. Then again, I am in no rush whatsoever to play the waiting game at Jury Duty, so I just ride.

An older and very obese woman with a walker flags down the bus. She is groaning and moaning with every single step. She almost goes in to a full on wail as she sits down in the seats across from me. I stand up to help her with her walker and she gives me an acknowledgement moan. The entire ride she is grasping her shirt at her heart and just reeks of pain. I literally fear she is going to have a heart attack on this bus. I smile at her and ask if she is alright? She starts speaking to me about something I definitely cannot understand and then looks forward to our approaching stop.

She pulls the tab with the utmost of effort - my same stop, as I was just wondering if I should call the hospital for her. She walkers off the bus groaning and moaning and moves slowly on her way.

I rush off to Jury Duty after my one hour and 17 minutes of bus travels, including one transfer. I feel accomplished and rather impressed with myself and the bus system. I am on time and it was somewhat easy to transfer with the help of my drivers!

....Jury Duty. Civic Duty Served. Lengthy Case. Rescheduled. Back to Bus....

On the way home, I am ready this time, bring on the two buses, 1 transfer, and over an hour of public transit travel. An LA Police Office points me in the right direction to my first bus. I wait at the stop and upon bus arrival, I inform the driver where I need to go. She is a larger woman full of knowledge. There are detours, different bus routes, and options for transfers - and she goes into a full on explanation about what each will entail. Impressive, but not answering my question. I finally ask her in the nicest of ways, "will this get me to the 720 stop on 5th and Grand?".

She says yes and helps me the entire way. Another amazing bus driver getting me home. I do appreciate it and I thank her when I exit to my transfer. Really, these bus drivers rocked the house today. Kudos to Metro HR, kudos!

I cross the crosswalk to the recognizable sign for the Rapid 720 bus stop. I wait for the hour ride home in 5pm traffic, feeling okay about having just rescheduled my Jury Duty to April. The bus arrives, is packed and I jump on. There are men in seats with buckets of flowers to sell, a guy closer to the back with a basket of umbrellas for sale as there is the smell of rain in the air, and some loud iPods blaring out of people's ears as I pass through to the back of the bus.

I find an open seat next to a young woman and sit with my backpack in my lap. I am so far from my normal route that as we are trucking along , I do not recognize anything at all. I lean over and ask the young girl if she knows what cross street we are on and she says nothing and stares out the window. Oh, okay.

So, we sit in silence until her departure. As she exits, a wonderful old man with a large hat, crunched shoulders and hearing aids leans down and sits next to me.

I am in the midst of powering through a couple work emails, as I have been out of commission for the past couple of hours and my previous bus friend was in no talking mood. I finally put the phone down and look up to the older gentleman. I greet him and ask him how he is doing.

He looks over slowly and responds that he is great. He points to my Blackberry and says, "I don't know how to even work one of those things".

I tell him he is lucky! I some times forget that these should NOT be attached to one's bodies and I had to put it down so I could even focus and speak with him. He smiles and explains that he does not even own a cell phone. I return his smile and ask him how he knows where to meet people or how he connects with his friends daily?

He smirks and points to us both and says, "we are connecting right now. Just like this".

A rush of warmth rushes through me and I tell him, "You are very right, sir".

He chuckles, pointing to his hearing aids and says, "I can't hear a damn thing anyways. Cell phone would be a waste on me".

I laugh with him and we connect. We truly connect.

I come to my stop and wish him well. We shake hands and I rush off into Beverly Hills towards my work.

A long day of bus travel, I look back on past events. My amazing bus drivers that got me exactly where I needed to be. My first experience transferring and it not being bad, at all (minus the added fare cost). The obese woman with the almost-heart attack to my non-talkative bus-mate, followed directly by the lovely old man with no cell phone and hearing aids. My civic duty that I half served and will have to do my adventure bus trek back and forth again in the near future.

And finally, how if we just put the Blackberry away, remove the iPod and quit the emails for a moment, then and only then can we really truly connect.

What a day. On the bus. What a day.

Breakfast of Champions

2010-02-21T21:53:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: I do not match today. Purple plaid jacket atop a pair of heathered blue lululemon Feel Good pants and royal blue Havianas flip flops on bottom and green aviator-esque sunglasses on top - I am a vision. It is Sunday morning and I just grabbed what was there...

You all know the days where you just feel a little off. I am sure you can tell by my outfit, I just missed the mark today. So, I am waiting for my bus and sipping through my sustainable coffee mug and shuddering. I tried to brew my own coffee this morning. Terrible decision. I make the right call and pour it out into the street, where it belongs.

711 is calling my name with their posters marketing these Breakfast Burrito Rolls. 2 for $2, what a steal! Knowing it is probably the worst decision, I turn to take advantage of this morning special. Oh yes, people. I did. Two breakfast rollers. You know the case with the hot dogs that roll all the live long day. Yes, these are rolling in the case right next to those hot dogs.

I know, I really know.

So I get my cardboard case full of artery clog and future stomach pain (see photo to right) and head back to the my stop right as the bus is approaching. The doors open up and I greet my bus driver with a large hello for Sunday. I think I startled him. He says hi back, takes one glance at the 711 Convenient breakfast box in my hands and looks up smiling, "Breakfast of Champions today, huh?".

I literally laugh out loud. And, I cannot stop. I tell him that these new burritos were calling my name today and it happened. It happened! I scold myself in front of him, using my full name as if I am really in trouble this time.

He is laughing too as I sit in the front seats and crack open the box. I snicker a bit longer knowing for sure that my bus driver has NO idea that I not only have one of these gnarly breakfast burrito rollers in the box, but there are 2! I ponder sharing with him, but that fades.

I am smiling the whole way there. The last couple of bites of burrito number 2, I pull into the town of regret. I knew I didn't need that second one! It wasn't near as good as the first one. What was I thinking? My stomach starts to rumble and I shake my head.

As I pull for my stop and jump off the bus stop, I wave bye and smile at my driver. He recalls my full name from my scolding and acknowledges me.

I head to the store to open shop. I start to figure that with all the walking I do to and from the bus stops, that second burrito was totally fine. I look up to the front of my store, pondering a real cup of good coffee - and there is my old bus friend. The man I think created Orbitz.com. He came to say 'hi'. How lovely.

We chat a moment and I thank him for saying hello this morning. He is heading to Santa Monica to breathe in the ocean air. I love that and momentarily wish I could just bail and ride the bus down West and hear his deep, lingering Santa Claus laughs. But alas, I must elevate the World to greatness at lululemon athletica Beverly Hills today! We exchange hugs and he says he will return.

And that was my morning. Laughing with my bus driver. Sitting on the bus eating 711 burritos out of my cardboard box o' calories, and my gentlemen friend clad in a suit to wish me a good morning at work.

Now that makes life easy like Sunday morning.

Her Favorite Color Was Purple, Too!

2010-02-20T13:51:00.001-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: A chillier morning called for my purple plaid jacket and my dark denim leggings. Yes, denim workout leggings from lululemon and they are awesome. With my bright blue Havianas flip flops and green sunglasses, I await the bus perched high on the green bench at my stop.

I am on my way home today from a radical yoga workshop. I wait for the bus while gabbing away with my amazing Mother on my phone. We are talking about life and communication issues and really getting down deep with eachother. I love when that happens, middle of Saturday morning - just waiting on the bus while Mom and I elevate our lives to greatness. Its good stuff, hell - it is great stuff!

As my bus approaches, we are in the heat of the conversation. "Mom. Mom. Mother! I have to pause you and say hello to my bus driver", I place the phone in my pocket and insert my crisp dollar and shiny quarter into the machine and say hello to my bus driver. I give him a shoulder knock and tell him that people are always so distracted on these cellular phones and that acknowledgement for those getting me home is necessary. He half smiles and shrugs.

I take Mom out of my pocket and allow her to continue as I head to the very back of my somewhat crowded bus. Ever since meeting that gentleman I think created Orbitz.com, I have had this amazing affinity for standing near the double doors and pretending I am surfing down Wilshire Boulevard on the bus. And to think, I have never surfed in the ocean in LA! A surf snob in my own right!

So yes, my Mom is reaching her conclusion of life being simple and beautiful and not to be taken seriously and all of a sudden this little girls starts belting out Ol' McDonald Had A Farm in the middle of the bus. As if we were her American Idol judges and life was her stage! I ask my Mom to listen, and say that is the beauty of life. Singing your heart out on the bus while sitting on your mother's lap on a sunny day and being happy. There it is, Mom. There it is. I can hear my mother smile over the phone and we promise to call one another later. Being best friends with your Mom is such a cool phenomenon - try it!

We hang up and I continue to watch my young singer-t0-be just jumping around. She is literally crawling all over her Mom's lap, smiling and laughing. She had to be four years old, which I really think is the best age. And honestly, the Mom seemed so happy, as well. How could she not be with the company of sunshine she brought along? It really is the mother/daughter loving energy. I can feel it exuding from them.

The bus comes to a stop and people exit the seats next to them. I immediately jump off my bus of a surf board and sit down next to them. I look at the young girl through my big green sunglasses and I thank her for singing to the bus, complimenting her beautiful voice.

She is surprisingly shy and holds on tight to her Mother's leg. They both thank me and smile at one another. The little girl, after a moment of deep thought, inches closer to me and away from the safety lock she had on her Mother. She climbs up into the seat next to me and smiles. She has on these amazing boots with a cute lite blue skirt. I lean in, "I just love those boots. YOU are so fashion forward, you know? And these colors you are wearing, well, you should be in a magazine!".

She screeches with delight and looks to her Mom for approval. Her Mom says she is always best dressed and winks from under her herringbone hat.

Sidenote: I love herringbone and feel that there really should be more of it in the World. I then glance down at my loud plaid jacket and laugh at myself.

Anyways, my new friend comments on the purple plaid jacket and purple backpack I am rocking today. Purple is her favorite color, too! Immediate bond. We then spend some time in education mode talking about what colors make a different color. i.e. Red and Blue make Purple, Yellow and Blue make Green...etc. We high five at the end of the colors game. I then show her some pictures on my Blackberry of the yoga class I went to. Her eyes get wide as she sees the crazy tricks we did (Note: I took a yogaFLIGHT workshop at my store this morning. Think flying in airplane on the bottom of someones feet as a kid - for grown ups in yoga form!).

The pair's stop is one before mine and as they prepare for departure, we introduce eachother to one another. Jasmine and Shandra were their names. I look up to the Mother, shake her hand and let her know they are very special. Jasmine chimes in that she is going to see her Daddy at the hospital. The Veterans' Hospital is right up the block. I remind her to sing for him, because she has a beautiful voice. She is ear to ear with her little teeth and those corn rows. They leave and she flashes me one last smile before hopping off the bus.

It truly is amazing, the innocence of a child that leaves one uplifted and so happy. Jasmine's contagious energy kept me smiling ear to ear the whole rest of the way home. She hadn't a care in the World on the bus today. Just singing and laughing and talking about our favorite colors. I am reminded yet again not to take life too seriously. Just be present and happy right now. Be open and let the peace of a child change your mood, change your day, or change your life.

Jasmine and her Mom probably had no idea that they had touched, moved and inspired me to come sit by them. In that moment, I got to tell them. I immediately let them know how wonderful they were. What if people did that every day? What if I did that every day, every time, every bus ride?

I pull the line for my stop and sigh with gratitude. The bus! It gets me every time if I am open to it! I shuffle to the exit and shoot my bus driver a wave and thank you. He waves back with a smile.

I start walking home and put my iPod in my ears. I find myself singing out loud and clapping my hands on the sidewalk. Look at me, light as a child inside and out.

Make The Choice to Have A Great Day

2010-02-19T10:21:00.001-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: Purple-ish blue lululemon athletica Still Pants, a more relaxed fit pair - as I cannot wear the tight spandex every day - matched with a grey long sleeve, a neon green tank peeking out the bottom, as I layer for the early morning chill. With my fitted LA Dodgers cap and bright green aviator-influenced sunglasses, I rock back and forth on my royal blue flip flops waiting for the bus.

I actually had been offered 2 rides this morning but opted to go find a bus adventure. In stepping on the Rapid 720, I thank my driver and find a seat right up front in between two older gentlemen. I won't miss a thing up here and I am ready for some action.

We rush through a couple stops and I got nothing thus far. Just enjoying the moment here.

"Approaching Westwood" rings through the bus with the mechanical women's voice above on the speaker system. A line of people begin to pour through the double doors.

A familiar face sits down across from me. I cannot pinpoint where I have met him, nor do I know if it was a pleasant conversation or not. Why my mind even wanders to a negative possibility, I do not know.

He looks across the way a couple times. Remembering, remembering....

"You work for an athletic clothing company right?", he asks.

In shock with his memory, I answer yes and smile. He reminds me that we have met before and says his name is Lonnie.

Ahhhhh yes, Lonnie. Sweet Lonnie who works for the oil company in Beverly Hills yet used to live in Texas. Yes, I am there now. We exchange our previous bus rendezvous and ask each other how the other is doing and so on and so forth.

He is so friendly and I immediately re-connect.

We get to talking about the past couple weeks. I tell him I caught that nasty head cold going around and he shares that he banged up his right heel of his foot somehow and that it "hurts like hell". Talk about the weather and the chilly air that has blown through. Nothing compared to the rest of the nation, we retort to one another.

He has those kind eyes. And they are kind of droopy in the most endearing way. We have a moment of silence and I look out the front window. I turn back to him and ask, "So Lonnie, are you going to have a great day?".

He scratches his navy blue beanie atop his head and answers, "We will see. Maybe. There are some obstacles, you know?".

I respond, "I don't know. You either choose to make it a great day or you don't".

He stares back and cracks a smile. "I hear ya, I hear ya".

"Well I hope you hear me. Or else I am just talking to thin air over here!", I respond with a little sass and a smile.

He eats it up and we both agree to have a great day today. As I pull my tab to exit, I shake his hand. He looks up from his seat and tells me, "I will remember what you told me today. And, I have all the confidence in you and that you will have a great day".

I smile, agree, and thank him. I remind him to make the choice, and with that, I wave bye to the bus driver and exit.

I some times forget how fun it is to challenge people. I challenged Lonnie to have a great day. What a trip. Nobody could ever truly be upset with someone for encouraging them to have a great day. And that is what we have to remember. It is essentially about standing for people's greatness.

I am so happy he spoke up and recalled our previous bus meeting. I hope Lonnie had a great day. I know I did.

Stand for the greatness of people. Challenge someone to have a great day today.

The Giving Bus

2010-02-17T00:00:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: Black lululemon athletica scoop neck tank over my bright green running shorts with a black jacket to match the top, and my green Nikes rushing to the corner bus stop - I multi-task while jogging, digging in my purple backpack for quarters, nickels dimes, dollars and coming up short.

Here is one problem I have with the bus system. Some times, just some times, I do not have change. I have used all my quarters and am out the door before I realize that major part of the bus - the fare! That need for exact change. I knew when I left this morning, that clanking of quarters was missing in my shorts pocket!

On days like these, I am usually scrambling to find an ATM to get the green. THEN, I am going to have to rush to a space that will throw me change for a $20 dollar bill. It goes like this, "Oh hi, can I get a cookie? And for my change, can I get four 1's and four quarters as part of it? Thanks so much".

What a mess.

Here is today. I search for the neon green ATM sign near the vicinity of my bus stop. Once targeted, I rush to it and go through all the normal operations. Card, Pin, dollar amount. Why can I only get dollar amounts in increments of 20? I would love to choose the quarter roll button! Regardless, I grab my money from the ATM and head towards Starbucks across the way from my stop for the cookie (usually oatmeal raisin, they really are delicious). Now, it is a rarity that I turn the corner and the bus is just waiting there. But today, of course it was there. My bus had just stopped at the corner to my left. Right as I am about to cross to the right to get to that cookie at the coffee shop. I am short on time, so I go for it, I jump on and ask the driver if he has any change for a $20 dollar bill? He shakes his head with a demanding "no" and says, "Ask them" as he points to the back of the bus.

Sheesh. I contemplate the cookie and the long wait for another bus.

I step further on through the bus entrance and I look to the sea of people sitting on my bus and give a small, very unlike me, yell, "Hey, ummm, does anyone have change for a $20 dollar bill?"

A couple people in front say no, others just look around. Then, this wonderful gentleman to my left stands up and digs in his light colored jeans pocket. He says, "Well hun, I don't have change for that $20 bill right there, but I do have these" as he is counting out five quarters in his hand amidst the pennies and other nickel and dimes.

I am in shock. Giving up his beloved quarters. I ask him, "are you sure?". As I hear that Edgar Winter song play in my head, "Come on and take a FREE RIDE", he places the quarters in the machine for me. (listen: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oQB83__ONuo)

He smiles and does the whole pay it forward speech. I am so appreciative. I offer him the three nickels I found at the bottom of my backpack earlier. He scoffs and tells me to put those away!

His name is Will and he has a great sense of humor. I sit down next to him and his opening line is, "You wanna know the weird thing about the bus? Nobody talks to anyone. They just stare and sit there and some times, they even block the open seat next to them. Ensuring no social contact!".

I laugh out loud. A hearty laugh. "Will! I think the exact same thing!". Seriously, exact same train of thought has been announced on this blog and in my head countless times.

We then talk about our bus history. We share stories and talk about how smart we feel because we don't sit in traffic anymore like all these goofs, have gone green and save a dollar bill or two. We just sit back, relax and enjoy the ride home. It is so funny to share this with someone who agrees in the exact same way. Makes you feel good. Its all about feeling smart.

And, he had paid for my ride. I still cannot get over it. I think how much I covet my quarters when someone asks me for money. I am always thinking to myself, NOT the quarters! And he just stood up and passed them out. I take a cue from Will.

Give. Just give.

I think back to one of my favorite children's books of all time, The Giving Tree. You know the one with the green cover, by Shel Silverstein (see photo to right). The book is essentially about a beautiful friendship between a young boy and an apple tree. The tree gives and gives to the boy as he grows up - anything he needs that the tree can offer, he gives (branch swings for play, wood for a boat, a stump to rest upon...). The tree gives with only one expectation, to see the boy happy. What an incredible concept. Just as Will had given me those five quarters, all he expected was me to do something nice in return for another. Not even for him.

I know I am going a little deep with this five quarter instance. But, it is so fitting. So many people do things and act in a way expecting reciprocity. But the truth of the matter is, when you are just giving, the enjoyment in the action is actually that much more enjoyable!

Will gave. He just gave me five quarters. We then enjoyed each other's company for the rest of the ride and it was a beautiful thing. I think I am still in shock that someone stood up. But even so, let's try this. Giving without any expectation.

Feels good. Feels right.

I stand up to depart to my stop home. I lean down and thank Will with one of those hugs that has a tight squeeze. It is the I-really-mean-it-squeeze. I ponder for a moment that I really hug more people now that I ride the bus. I will save that for another day, another blog, another story. For now, I thank him and my bus driver and jump off the bus.

I rode the Giving Bus today! A beautiful story.

Bus Camouflage and No Seatbelts?

2010-02-07T22:32:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: Oh you are in for this, so today I decided to go bright. I rocked the lululemon athletica color Mac and Cheese. Yes, bright yellow leggings with my brand new Vans Classic Slip On sneakers in the textured colors of bright purple, bright blue and lime green. Yes, you are reading this right. Green sunglasses offset the orange-red long sleeve and that bus smile, as I wait on Wilshire Boulevard.

What a day. I am exhausted after a full morning. I have already done a ballet barre class that rocked my bum in ways I did not know was possible, followed by a gnarly Cross Fit workout before approaching the bus today. The endorphins are running rampant!

My bus arrives in somewhat good time and I jump on to greet my bus driver. She is decked out in these colorful bus-driving gloves with the fingers cut out. I, of course, comment on her snazzy style and she thanks me.

I take my seat and I look around at my sleepy passengers. I place my purple backpack aside and just enjoy the ride.

Now, I know I have told you guys about the insane 80's print on the seats of the bus. Who is the Metro stylist? Well, well, well, wouldn't you know it, today I matched it. Oh yes, bus camouflage brought to you by this lululemon athletica clad bus snob! I was worried someone might sit on me! I had the yellow pants and the orange-red top. How in the World could this be? I chuckle to myself, it is almost unreal! (See bus seats below...)

Once I think I am past myself matching the bus, I begin to ponder: why does the bus not have seat belts? Really, why not? It is the law to buckle up in the car, but on the bus with, at times, over 50 people riding - all in the hands of one bus driver. I question the logic here. I do not sign a waiver on the bus. There are no signs saying if we crash, Metro Rapid 720 is not responsible. It is rather interesting.

This is LA with all the traffic and crazy dreamers on the road! Hell, I sign waivers before entering a gentle yoga flow in this city!

Answers! I need answers!

In case you have forgotten, yes, yes I did match the seats today on the bus. I did!

Find a New Reason, A New Way of Living

2010-02-03T23:15:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: I am very yogi today with my organic cotton purple long sleeve and lululemon hip pants in dark grey. I somehow perfectly coordinated my outfit with my purple backpack, purple yoga mat, green sunglasses and green Nikes. Not on purpose. But, it looked pretty good, I must say.

I am walking towards the bus today to attend a yoga class with a focus on arm balances and the level 2/3 written beside the class. Now, I am not a level 2/3. I am level 1 or maybe level .5 - still learning the ways of yoga and all the stretching and breathing and meditating. Its not simple. Regardless, I am walking up to the bus stop, about a block away from the stop and there is my Rapid 720 barreling up Wilshire heading West right on time.

Damn! I am not even across the street yet. Oh yes, I take off in a full sprint. Backpack flopping around with my yoga mat weighing me down. Arm flailing. My sustainable water bottle flies out of my backpack and into the street. Great! I pull some kind of Peyton Manning step move and squat, grab water bottle, back to sprint, bus entrance. I make it. Sweating and out of breathe. But I make it.

My bus driver is a larger African American woman with a large gap between her teeth. She laughs at me as I throw my hand in the air and yell, "I made it!". Like Rocky at the end of his stair climb, but me at my bus double doors!

She gives me the once-over and asks me if purple and green are my favorite colors. I look down and see my amazing coordination. "Why yes, yes they are". She laughs again and I look for my seat. She is friendly.

Bus got me there right on time. I thank her and hurry down to class. Ahh, Santa Monica. I just love being this close to the ocean, you can just smell it in the air.

Anyways, class was great. And yes, the class was ridiculously hard and yes, I almost passed out at the end in resting pose. Level 2/3 is no joke. You should have seen what some of the characters in there could do!

Sweaty and disheveled from the added levels of intensity, I walk a bit slower back to my bus stop heading East to get home and shower. Waiting and waiting, the bus arrives and the double doors open.

Wouldn't you know, it was the same gapped-tooth woman driving the bus! I am in shock and so excited. I think I lit up. I NEVER get the same bus driver - especially a nice one who admires my outfit! I tell her about yoga class and thank her again for taking me where I need to go.

Now, I see that you are reading this like what is the big deal. But, to me, seeing the same bus driver twice in one round trip is quite the treat. Its like seeing a friend at the airport. Or, to me it is. So, I ponder this new found appreciation for the small things in my life. I mean, who really gets excited about the same bus driver. I literally told her, "OMG, I never get the same driver in the same roundtrip! Best day ever!" (HIGH FIVE). She loved it and I loved it! Why not, right? Why the heck not?

It is a new way of living, this bus trip. A new reason to be happy and excited every day on public transport - and I shout it out and try to dream again.

Thus, I leave you with my new found theme song for my bus life from The Cloud Room.

Listen: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3aAza2nwa8Y

The Cloud Room

Hey Now Now

Hey now now, they'll find you when you're sleeping now now

they'll reach in and grab what you're dreamin' now now

cut it up and slip it back in, and I know, and I know, and I know it

Hey now now, the smallest things are crushing me now

the crush crush crush is so comforting now

did the earth just slam in the sun, and I know, and I know, and I know it

won't undo their past by walking and talking backwards

Hey now now, we're goin' down down

and we ride the bus there and pay the bus fare

or we find a new reason, a new way of living

and we breathe it in and try to dream again

Hey now now, we're goin' down down

and we ride the bus there and pay the bus fare

or we find a new reason, a new way of living

and we breathe it in and try to dream again

Hey now now, they'll find you when you're sleeping, now nowt

they'll reach in and grab what you're dreamin', now now

cut it up and slip it back in and I know, and I know, and I know it

Hey now now, the smallest things are crushing me now

the crush crush crush is so comforting now

did the earth just slam in the sun, and I know, and I know, and I know it

won't undo their past by walking and talking backwards

Hey now now, we're goin' down down

and we ride the bus there and pay the bus fare

or we find a new reason, a new way of living

and we shout it out and try to dream again

Hey now now, we're goin' down down

and we ride the bus there and pay the bus fare

or we find a new reason, a new way of living

and we shout it out and try to dream again

la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la lalalalaaaaa

Hey now now, we're goin' down down

and we ride the bus there and pay the bus fare

or we find a new reason, a new way of living

and we breathe it in and try to dream again

Hey now now, we're goin' down down

and we ride the bus there and pay the bus fare

or we find a new reason, a new way of living

and we shout it in and try to dream again

Hey now now, we're goin' down down

and we ride the bus there and pay the bus fare

or we find a new reason, a new way of living

and we shout it in and try to dream again

Bustrations: Get Out of Your Head and Into Your Heart

2010-01-27T23:06:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: Hot pink lululemon athletica racerback peeks beneath this incredible new half jacket I picked up from this amazing store....lululemon athletica in Beverly Hills. Rocking the UGG boots this morning with black capris and my green sunglasses, I wait for the bus.

So, I was going to start this post about honesty and the bus system. I was going to take the lid off my bus glorification I seem to have found and all the goodness of the Rapid 720 that I speak to daily, and tell you that some times the bus can be a pain.. That honesty piece would have been the flip side of my snob-ness. The revelations of bus frustrations. Or the title of the blog that was: "Bustrations". (I truly get a life kick out of word combinations. I do not know what that is about, but lucky for you, this amazing gentlemen in a full three-piece suit with a red tie that matched his red handkerchief and a rain tracker hat saved the blog day!).

Just to note, there are some pressing things about not having a car and riding the bus that I ponder at times. Like how long it takes me to get somewhere with the leaving the house early to walk the 15 minutes to the bus stop, to wait for the bus, to play stop-and-go down Wilshire. Or, when the bus is late. I mean, I know it happens but it really puts a kink in my schedule. Or, when you just want to listen to the radio and sing at the top of your lungs with the windows rolled down. Obviously, there are some rants here. But like I said, we won't go there.

Bustrations relieved.

So, I get on the bus this evening. It is my third trip of the day. Heading back to Beverly Hills for lululemon's Zumba donation class for Haiti. A beautiful event that I will most definitely shake my tailfeather for. I insert my cash and coin and enter a very full-to-the-brim evening ride. So crowded, I choose to stand near the first exit and hold on for dear life.

I have my green sunglasses on, as the sun is still peeking out before dusk and stare out the double doors. Hoping they stay shut as I somewhat lean against them! An older gentleman departs from his coveted seat and comes to stand next to me. He is smiling. I am momentarily creeped out by how close he is standing next to me, but I smile back anyways. He giggles a little under his white beard and rain tracker hat (see photo) atop his classy suit and Club Monaco bag. An interesting combination for an interesting man.

I stare forward. Like I said, I am adding to my "Bustrations" blog and writing my complaints silently in my head and am not looking for a life altering bus ride at this time. Oh damn, he caught my eyes again. How does he do that? I have sunglasses on. He smiles and says, "Hello".

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Out of my head of bus complaints and into my heart of love and chance bus interactions.....

"Hi there". I smile. He is somehow exuding this amazing energy. The bus starts to shake and bump. There is this part of Wilshire Boulevard that is absolutely a mess and you feel like an earthquake is taking place - but it is really just the road rocking the shocks of the bus (or lack there of).

He laughs. It is the most amazing laugh. Deep and drawn out, as if it takes his whole being. Seriously, like Santa Clause. It was almost eerie with the white beard, red cheeks, red tie and happiness glow. He leans in and reveals, "this is my favorite part of the ride. I feel like I am surfing!".

I laugh, too. I immediately envision those holiday cards at Christmas time with fat Santa on a surfboard yelling "Hang Ten this Christmas!". I, on the other hand, respond, "Oh I just hate this part. I feel like the bus is going to fall apart and it is so loud!".

One can tell he is very intelligent. He speaks with intention and has an incredible ability to hold eye contact. Blue eyes. He is rather lean and has really nice posture. He assures me that the bus will not be falling apart on us and to just roll with it.

So, I do.

Anyways, we get to conversing. I will note, he was a close talker. If anyone has seen the Seinfeld episode, he did get so close to my face while talking to me. And along his favorite bumpy part, I had to catch him. Not once, but twice. Like, literally had to grab his hand and catch him from falling backwards. I was like, dude - hold on to the handle! Thinking he must not be too radical on a surfboard.

We continue talking about the bus. Life. Jobs. Weather. Surfing. People. Happiness.

Did you know: The Rapid buses have a satellite signal that when they arrive at a traffic light - it can turn 15 seconds faster for the Rapid Buses? No? I did not know that either!

AMAZING.

As he told me this, I was getting suspicious. Bus knowledge. Three piece suit. What the heck is he doing on the bus. His name was J.W., I believe. He had earlier pulled out a gold pen from his breast pocket with his name engraved on it. So, now I am thrown for a loop.

We share job information. You guys, I am not kidding when I tell you I think this was the owner of Orbitz.com on the bus with me. The web owner or creator or something. I am not kidding. He lives in Beverly Hills. Collaborated on the city's bus system. Does not own a cell phone or a land line! Just rides the bus because he does not like to drive and takes all his meetings through his attorney or at a coffee shop with friends. WHAT? What!

Okay, I know I am all over the place with this story. But maybe, just maybe, you are getting an idea of how I felt on the bus. Clean, nicely dressed, Santa Clause-like personality, older gentleman close-talker that might or might not own Orbitz.com and is sharing some new business ploy with me.

I mean, I am flabbergasted.

I remove my sunglasses and share with him that he is one of the reasons I do not wear my iPod on the bus. I love people interaction, strange and short possibilities for greatness on a 17 minutes ride. I share my life goals and get real with this J.W.. I tell him about customer service and authentic guest experience and how the retail floor can transcend into one's personal life. I share my ideas about people in LA and how we are so scared to reach out and just hug one another. I tell him some of my brilliant bus ideas. I think he gets a kick out of all this - he laughed that deep laugh quite a bit.

I truly wish I could have recorded a) how slow he spoke to me. b) his laugh. c) his amazing outlook on life - without a cell phone! If we are living in the past here, I would also have loved a picture of his outfit and his smile with these massive blue eyes that shined with his white hair under the rain hat and big beard!

You know, I ramble because I cannot put into words what it felt like departing. We hugged and I thanked him for sharing with me today. I told him to come see me at my place of work right down the way. He walked his way and I walked mine. Crossing Beverly Drive, I literally laugh out loud. Did that just happen? What an interaction to close my bustrating day!

You never know what you are going to get in life? Who is waiting for you on the bus each day? Who will leave you in awe of life and catch you off guard?

What you get to learn though is this:

One man's bumpy ride on the bus is a surfboard on the waves. While those same bumps on the road are another's fear of bus failure.

One woman's blackberry is her life source of communication, while another man's coffee shop is his life of interaction.

One day of frustrations on the bus can lead to an amazing and all too consuming conversation.

Life.

A plethora of beautiful chance meetings.

Just have to get out of your head and into your heart.

Beverly Hills Dress Code

2010-01-24T23:08:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: My green lululemon Cozy Up Jacket above my black leggings and dark brown UGG boots, offset with hot pink legwarmers and my heavy, magenta patent leather gym bag await my bus adventure today.

Sunday mornings at the bus stop are always pretty low key. People are still sleeping or not up and at 'em at 7:00am. I rush into the 711 Convenient Store to grab my extra bold coffee. I rush out right when the bus arrives.

Five quarters inserted and I talk weather with my bus driver. He is a younger gentleman and we share our love that the sun is back in town and the rain has finally passed. I inquire about his bus driving hours to find that his morning shift starts at 5:30am. Thus, he has to be up at 4:00am to make it to work on time. Shoot! I thought I was tired today. I make sure he is alert and head back to my seat.

Like I said, Sunday mornings are slow and I sit in the high perched seats and sprawl my stuff everywhere. The bus continues it trek down Wilshire today and I am making incredible time.

I look around and notice the sleepy eyes on the bus. I make eye contact with an older gentleman in a suit jacket and blue baseball cap. He has white chest hair peeking from all angles of his button down shirt. It is somehow endearing. Weird.

A smooth ride and I am already at my stop. No interactions and here I go! Yelling thanks to the bus driver, I depart to my 90210 place of work. I think, what a quite ride today.

Now, while waiting at my crosswalk, the aforementioned older gentleman comes up beside. He is giving off this amazing cheerful energy and says immediately that he loves my outfit and asks where I am going. I smile and tell him I have to work today. Making that dollar! He responds that he is going to church and proceeds to tell me about his outfit:

"You know, when you come to Beverly Hills, you have to look good [he pulls the collar on his suit jacket]. I had to put on this jacket today just so the cops don't give me the run-around. I once wore a t-shirt and walked by the cops and I thought they were going to come after me. Really, they were giving me the glare. So from now on, I know the code and to dress it up".

I laugh. He is amazing. The old school blue baseball cap with the black suit jacket and button down. And I am not even kidding about this white as snow chest hair visible from all areas of the collar. He has thick glasses and just smiles the whole conversation.

He travels from Santa Monica to Beverly Hills to visit this church every Sunday. I am sure there are Protestant churches in Santa Monica, but he is bored and just needs a spice of life. Or, he just wants to dress up and loves the story of Beverly Hills, what a thrill lifestyle.

He walks my way and he shares about our generation, homeless people and how important it is to stay healthy. He tells me he was a Marine and lived in a time where kids smoked and drank much more than they do now. I bet he was a teacher at some point. In our one sidewalk block of interaction, he is trying to convey about eighteen messages. Very professor mixed with a beautiful grandpa-esque style.

His name was Ed and he was 82 years old. I mean, he looked great and moved pretty quick for his age. He was out of breathe after we departed ways, but he was so very sweet.

We shook hands at the corner and I walked towards work thinking about Ed's view of Beverly Hills. How he felt he had to get fancy to walk the streets and his quick teachings while walking with me. I do not know what I got from it, if not more than just warmth in my heart for this older man. The authentic connection and happiness shared. And goodness me, that gnarly chest hair. But, he definitely started my morning off right with a huge smile and his wise 'teachings'.

Random Acts of Kindness

2010-01-23T08:37:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: Rockin' classy black today, I wait for the bus in black lululemon athletica groove pants, a matching black jacket and a red tank underneath. My purple backpack weighed down calls for my lean on the navy blue beach cruiser.

Its been a long day at work. The weather in LA has been really gnarly. I am talking a downpour at 10:00am and then all out sunshine by 3:00pm. How do you even dress for this weather? I am so used to flip flops and tank tops, no matter the season. And go figure, I gave my HOT PINK rain boots to Goodwill just three months ago.

I wait for the bus to close out the day. Happy the rain has stopped and counting my quarters in my jacket. I think about my busy week last week, my choice of happiness and my intention to really slow it down and seek that quality and balance.

The bus finally arrives! Here I go again with my bike. I put my sustainable coffee cup on the sidewalk. Kickstand down. Rush to pull down the gate.Get my bike from sidewalk. Heave-ho, up it goes on to the front. What a pill! The front handle bars spin around and the basket is going crazy. I look up and wave to the bus driver. He smiles. I get that damn thing situated up there, grab my coffee cup and jump through the double doors. I thank him for his patience and he is chuckling a bit.

He tells me, "I would have helped, but the last time I did that, some lady just yelled at me!".

I smile at his sweet, chubby face and ask him why. He informs me that this woman just went nuts on him because he offered his help and she went all sexist remarks, asking him if he thought she couldn't do it on her own and that she didn't need him. Later she went home and burned all her bras, too. I am so sure.

I inform him that I do appreciate women that can hold their own and stand for that strength. I am one of them. But come on, I take all the help I can get. That bike's heavy. I remind him not to let one hard up feminist shape the reality of another!

He laughs and I sit down for the ride. A more silent crowd later this evening and not as many people as usual. I daydream all the way and finally we arrive at my stop. I rush to the front to get my bike and to tell the bus driver thank you!

He is out of his seat and already up front getting my bike off the rack for me. He sets it down lightly on the sidewalk and tips his hat.

I am in awe. I thank him so much and half hug him! No joke, that bike is really heavy. I mean, I can handle it. But hey, I am down to take a helping hand from my friends.

He jumps back into the drivers seat and rushes away down Wilshire. Now, I know I shared that I have been super busy the past couple weeks and missing all the inspirational greatness that happens in my life daily. And here it is. He got out of the drivers seat to help me. I just think that is amazing.

And who I was when I stepped on the bus was just thinking about my intentions and choosing happiness. And look at that, he helped me do just that. Right then and there.

That sweet, chubby-faced bus driver just made my evening with a bike lift. A randmon act of ultimate kindess.

Take help when help is available. People love helping others. It gives them a sense of purpose, a sense of being. I get so wrapped up in my ego some times. No, I don't need this or that. I am independent and can do it on my own! I don't need a ride in the pouring rain. I don't need a hug when the day has really gotten the best of me. When in honesty, I do. I'll take that ride. I'll take that hug. Yes, lift that heavy bike for me, please! And, thank you so very much.

Those random acts of kindess.

Make my world go around.

Eclectic, Crazy and Creepy

2010-01-19T09:32:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: A Purple Blob bounds towards the bus this morning, and that purple blog is me. Are you ready for this? lululemon athletica purple denim leggings peek beneath a purple plaid rain coat today. Only to be matched by the bright purple jacket, carrying my deeper purple yoga mat and a purple umbrella. Yes. Its true. I top the ensemble with my navy blue fitted LA Dodgers hat and end with bright blue Haviana flip flops.

I can explain the outfit. You see, it has been crazy rainy in LA. And now that I live here, I do not even know how to begin to dress for precipitation in any form. So my running jacket from lululemon is purple plaid, water resistant and wind resistant. No brainer, that is being worn. However, tonight I have an 80's dance workout class in Silverlake, so the purple denim is an absolute must! In getting ready this morning, I did not even ponder the two items being put on together. So here I am, at the bus stop, screaming purple.

I look around and my marketing brain clicks on a billboard image. I am standing with about ten people at the bus stop. A slight drizzle coming down. Each person is wearing a black trench coat of some sort. No joke, every passenger-in-waiting is in black. Then, standing in the middle is this beacon of purple plaid. I am a lululemon advertisement. Right here in real life, for your viewing pleasure.

Anyways, the rain is such a pain. We all keep looking and searching for our bus. The rain really slows LA down. People can't drive, obviously people cannot dress (case in point).... Finally, the puddles start to tidal wave and here comes our bus.

I jump in the ocean of black raincoats and smile at my bus driver. I thank him for driving carefully in all this rainy mess and find a seat next to an older gentleman wearing a mix of a black Cowboy hat and Australian Bush Hat. I lean over to him in all my purple greatness and let him know that his hat reminds me of my home in Texas.

He smiles and we embark on conversation. The normal where you from, what do you do, where you going.... He smiles and is very serene while sitting on the bus. His black leather vest and jeans are some what hipster and he has a slight smell of alcohol that I cannot quite pick out.

He tells me he is a musician works in a bar in Venice and his name is Don. Of course, hipster outfit. Alcohol smell. He had been up partying all night and says he is on his way home! Did I mention it was a Tuesday morning?

I laugh. Don informs me that Jack Daniels was a good friend to him last night and that I should come party some time. He was a beautiful mixture of eclectic, crazy and creepy all at the same time. What a thrill at 7:00am on a Tuesday.

He departed a couple stops after meeting and we bid our good byes. I tell him to rock on and he laughs. I am sure I will run into him again.

Isn't it funny when meeting people. You really have no idea where they just were or even where they are going. Don had gotten on the bus to head home after a long evening of who knows what. I say sex, drugs and alcohol - just because it sounds cool and he is rockstar in his own right. And here I am, sober as a doornail heading to my place of work all decked in purple and really looking forward to this 80's dance session later that evening.

All you can really do, is enjoy the moment. Enjoy the interaction. For all that it might be worth.

A hipster, rocking out, probably-still-drunk-from-the-evening-before party animal meets a responsible, 80's obsessed, purple has to be her favorite color blogger.

And, a beautiful connection.

We laughed. Smiled. And shared. Really, what else would I ever need from the bus?

Life is grand.

Flip The Snobby Switch

2010-01-18T18:31:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: Groggy and absolutely exhausted eyes seek for my bus today in my lululemon lite gray Feel Good sweatpants that really do feel so good and a long sleeve bright blue v-neck. My hair, still curly from the previous evening, is everywhere and my purple backpack feels so heavy. I wait.

It is a really nice morning and there is quite a collection of people already at my bus stop this morning. Always a good sign, as I have not missed the bus! I ponder a bold blend of coffee from the 711 Convenient store. Should I make a dash for it? YES!

I rush in. Fill up my sustainable cup and pay as quickly as possible. They only charged me .99 cents because it was refill in my cup. AMAZING! I run back out. Still no bus. Sheesh, all that rush. So, I lean and wait.

A familiar face appears and stands beside me. My resident 711 homeless man, Anthony is here today. He gives me the normal up and down look, sizing up my outfit today. Ugh, why does he have to do that? I tell him good morning. He looks up. I think he is all too surprised I remember his name. We chat about the past couple weeks and he tells me how nice I look. I'm in sweatpants, he is funny.

He proceeds to interrupt our great conversation and asks me for money. I tell him again that I ride the bus and need these quarters for my transportation. He knows all this. I explained it last time. So then, he asks for my number. Yes, he is trying to get my digits at the bus stop in front of 711.

My snobby mind rushes to, "Is this your life? Is this really happening?".

I have to wonder if he owns a phone. He did not whip one out to enter my contact information. And what is he thinking? I immediately say no.

He markets himself well. Telling me we could hang out. He has some great contacts if I need to network and I could help him find some jobs here and there.

I flip the snobby switch and my inspiring self latches to goal setting and ask him what he wants to do, what type of job and his goals. He brushes me off and informs me he doesn't want a real job, per se. More just clean up stuff here and there. "So, can I have your number?", he asks again.

I roll my eyes and tell him no phone number. I reach down in my pocket and find a lingering dime. I give it to him. I say, "Look Anthony. You are not getting my phone number. However, I can promise that I will bring you a dime every time I see you. A dime, every time. Deal? And I will keep my ears to the ground for job opportunities if you promise to keep looking for a job, a real job?". He takes the dime reluctantly and say okay. He wishes me a beautiful day and heads back to his post by the entrance.

Oh Anthony. What in heaven's name was he thinking asking for my number? Guess he has nothing to lose.

You would think at all the parties I have attended and the bars I frequent with the lululemon ladies, that some of the guys could take a tip from Anthony on how to get a number from any of the single girls in this town.

Anyways, I flipped the snobby switch and will be carrying five quarters and a dime from now on.

The things I do for goal setting.

Too Much Chittavritti

2010-01-16T10:06:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: The cool evening breeze called for an old favorite, the avocado green lululemon jacket, my fitted LA Dodgers hat that I some times feel really cool wearing and grey leggings and royal blue flip flops wait for the bus with my navy blue beach cruising bike.

I am having one those weeks where I have over-committed to absolutely everything I could squeeze on my daily planner. Dance show this night, wine with the ladies at my apartment that night, yoga class that day.... And, I am realizing that they all sound wonderful when I say 'yes' to each and every activity, but then the week creeps up and I am just utterly exhausted from this bus to that carpool, from bike to bus again.

As my brain moves in constant motion, I sit on the bus in silence. My best friend, Erin from Indiana calls the Blackberry, a friend I hold so near and dear to my heart. Erin, not the Blackberry. With my busy schedule, where do I fit in my phone conversation and girl talk needs? Right here, right now, on the bus.

Alas, we are chatting and chatting. And, I realize that because I am so busy, I am not able to be inspiring. At all. Not on the phone with Erin or on the bus with my bus friends. Unable to even distinguish the choice of happiness or live in each moment, I am too busy thinking about the moment to come later this evening, or tomorrow morning and on to that next evening already. Who am I being for anyone? For myself?

In yoga, they call this "chittavritti". Now, I share this with you because I think it is all too fun to try and pronounce it. And, it means in our Western World, 'mind chatter'. Well, let me tell you, I have a whole lot of chittavritti going on. And, it is really effecting my entire being.

I have not met anyone on the bus in the past couple days. Am I being uninspiring? I am so busy going here and getting there, I do not even make time to say 'hi' or smile at any of my passenger friends. I do not make the time to allow someone to inspire me and make my day or the rest of my week.

The infamous t0-do list, combined with this chittavritti and the "I don't have time..." excuse is really rocking my core right now. Where is my balance? Am I living my BEST life possible? I have set the weekly intention for balance and quality. I will leave days open. Not say 'yes' to absolutely everything. And make time to just breathe, clear the mind chatter, and do enjoy the ride.

Clear the chittavritti. Ask yourself: Are you living your BEST life today?

"THIS IS MY CITY!"

2010-01-12T22:45:00.000-08:00

So today at my bus stop....

visual: Black lululemon athletica groove pants with a reflective band lay over my TOMS shoes which truck down Barrington towards my yoga class. My purple plaid jacket that is the perfect weight for this breezey California evening matches my purple backpack and purple yoga mat, topped with my hot pink headband rush happily onward....

While waiting at my bus stop, I decide to switch it up and walk to my yoga class this evening. Google Maps for my Blackberry informed me that the walk is roughly 31 minutes and I have just enough time. I am so fond of the bus that some times I forget about my bike and even my own willing and able legs.

So, I head towards the cross walk. As I am waiting for my WALK sign, a gentleman is walking towards me from the opposite direction. He is a younger fellow with crazy curly hair and an unbottoned flannel. However, he is just yelling at the top of his lungs. I cannot make out what he is saying as his voice is stretching to its final limits. Moments pass and he is within feet of my waiting space and he literally stops in front of a red Mini Cooper waiting at the red light on our corner and screams:

"THIS IS MY CITY! NOW GET OUT! GET OUT!"

Oh goodness me. Here I am with my purple plaid jacket, hot pink headband, yoga mat strapped to my backpack, Blackberry in hand and a smile, what am I expecting here? Do I look frail? Is he going to yell at me? Is he going to freak out? Should I be scared?

To my surprise, he stands next to me quietly and still. I think to myself, maybe it is just Tourette Syndrome. I try to switch my mentality and exude loving energy, but I feel the fear is still winning.

Then, he begins to look my direction. And he moves his head in a way you would see a puppet slowly turn his head in a horror film. "This is it", I say to myself. "He is going to yell or do something awful"! I just want to get to yoga class. Breathe. Stretch. Breathe. He makes eye contact with me and in a low almost whisper, he states, "This is my city, get out now". And he turns away.

I reassure him that I will and stare at the crosswalk sign, conjuring it to remove that orange hand and change immediately to that white lit up person who appears to be walking.

Thank God this running couple approaches the corner. They are doing that standing jog thing, where people keep running while standing in place. I always feel that looks so awkward. But, he does the same thing to them! The creepy head turn and whispering request to depart from HIS city.

As we finally get the go-ahead to walk, he is bounding across the crosswalk, yelling at the cars waiting at the red light. Flailing his arms and pointing fingers to windshields as he screams:

"GET OUT! YOU GET OUT! AND YOU! THIS IS MY CITYYYYY..."

He turns the opposite direction from my path to the yoga studio and I sigh in relief.

I get to thinking about this experience. Can you actually imagine if Los Angeles was your city and you wanted everyone to "get out"? How boring. And lonely. And sad.

I have come to believe that where you live is really made up of whatevery you want it to be and who you want to spend your time with. I am so amazed daily when I wake up to the sunshine, 70 degrees in January, and the mountains and ocean reminding me of something bigger than myself. However, this is just weather and my deeper meaning of nature. The people in my life really are what make Los Angeles my city, my home.

Hikes, yoga classes, and wine glasses, trendy scenes, coffee fiends, and goal setting....LA is my home because my friends and co-workers all make it amazing.

I am so very grateful for you, you and you that make my LA exactly what it is and should be in my life.

So next time I am crossing the intersection with my friends and friends-to-be in LA, I will scream:

"THIS IS MY CITY! PLEASE STAY!"

And for you, owner of the city you reside in, who makes your city a home?

Remind them how amazing they are to you.

Aussies Did Not Look Like This When I Was There...

2010-01-11T23:06:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: Electric orange lululemon athletica racerback and black groove pants roll the bike on the front of the bus today. With my high ponytail, green glasses and UGG boots in 70 degree weather, I am the epitome of LA right now waiting for my bus.

I rode my beach cruiser all the way down to Santa Monica today for some yoga on the beach with a best friend of mine, Leigh Golden. She is an amazing yoga instructor and really just a zesty human being. We had a grand time and it made for quite the most lovely morning. So grateful for my ridiculous sunshine in January, a beautiful beach and mountains in the background. How can I ever have a bad day?

As I depart my dear yoga friend, I roll my bike down to my bus stop. As I know the bike ride is uphill back to Beverly Hills, I am all too glad that the Rapid 720 comes all the way down to the beach. I leave early to give time for traffic, delays and random bus adventure.

And happy I am that I left early...

While waiting at my bus stop propped up on my navy blue beach cruiser and gushing on my cellular device, a crew of young Australian boys depart a different bus to wait at my stop. Now, I studied in the land down under for six months, and let me tell you all a little something, Aussies did NOT look like this where I was staying. I tell my Midwest love I will call him back, hang up immediately and eavesdrop.

They were staring at the bus signs that are so damn confusing and conversing with one another in that amazing accent. The friendly local I am, I wave one over and ask where they want to be going.

"Thanks mate. Lookin' for Rodeo Drive"?

I melt. Something about accents, they get me every time. I tell them to just follow my lead, I work in Beverly Hills near Rodeo. I dance a little inside knowing they will be riding with me. I am such a nerd. But really, what a treat! Beautiful men. With accents! Sometimes the Metro really shows up in for me in more than just transportation.

Speaking of, the bus arrives and we all line up. I load my bike on the front trying to look cool yet knowing it is merely impossible with the weight of the bike and all the performance anxiety! I do alright. Sweating in my UGG boots, I thank my bus driver and sit near my Australian mates.

We get to talking about their visit to LA, life and upcoming travels. So get this, these five boys had all quit their jobs. Just up and quit. Flew in last night for a pit stop in Los Angeles for three days, then heading to the Grand Canyon next, Vegas afterwards, and finally landing down to South America for six months!

My mouth dropped. Why are Australians so cool? They really travel, live without fear and just experience life! I take a mental note of my jealousy of their cool factor and life adventure-ness, silently pondering if just maybe I should add that into my life goals.

Anyways, they ask me about Hollywood and the Walk of Stars. I chuckle inside thinking about my first trip to LA and all the tourist stuff my family and I did. Hell, I got my first prom dress on Rodeo Drive and thought I was the cat's meow because of it. How different my LA home is from what any outsider would come to experience now. I know the secrets like hiking Runyon Canyon, the pancakes at Griddle Cafe, the difference between a jog and a jog on the beach boardwalk and the amazing happy hour(s) at Cabo Cantina. Hello, it is a 2 for 1 deal until 8pm.

Nonetheless, I am helpful and break out the Blackberry google maps application and get them public transit directions from Rodeo Drive straight to Hollywood Boulevard. Every day I am still in awe of this incredible technology, I write them directions and they all thank me "heaps".

We approach the 90210 zip code and I pull the stop request chord. We all depart together and I wish them well and send them along to Rodeo Drive and Hollywood Boulevard.

What a fun bus ride with such cute Australian boys. I know that one day they will help some work out clad girl who is traveling and lost in her own life adventures.

Who knows, maybe it will be me!

Traveling the World. One bus ride at a time.

A Bus Musical, "Snob On A Bus, The Busical"

2010-01-11T22:27:00.001-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: Going for comfort I choose a loose lululemon athletica Still Pant in the a shade of what one might see as a darker blue and another as a deep purple partnered with a sea foam tank and my bright blue Puma tennis shoes, I stare through my green stunner shades for the bus.

I was hitting my bus stops just right for a good two weeks. In that, I mean a bus would show up within two minutes of my arrival. But lately, I have been just about twenty steps behind, every time. Same thing this morning, I saw the bus cross the intersection and I am two crosswalks away. What is that?

I approach my bus stop and take a seat on the bench. For some odd reason, I feel so rushed this morning. As my 'to do' list runs over and over in my head, I tap my Puma clad foot nervously and search down Wilshire. I knock out a couple phone calls and there it is, shiny and red. Phew!

I jump on and have been choosing to stand lately near the first rear entrance. I get a thrill in staring out the double doors while we are moving. It seems like it should be so against the rules, but its not.

So, I'm standing at my post and all of the sudden the bus is jam-packed. I have to move all the way to the back rear entrance. Some larger man with a huge suitcase decided to maneuver on in to my spot, as if I was not even there. I start singing Mister Cellophane from the musical, Chicago, in my head:

"Cellophane
Mister cellophane
Should have been my name!
Mister cellophane
'Cause you can look right through me
Walk right by me
And never know I'm there! "

Thank God I don't sing out loud. Disaster.

Anyways, so I am moving to the back and it is one hell of a walk. The bus is already moving and I am swaying between different railings and loop holes hanging from the ceiling to finally swing around to my post in the back. I must have looked like a monkey, a gymnast on rings and a stripper swinging around a pole, all by the time I had gotten to the back. Crazy.

A cute older woman with Adidas capris (or pedal pushers, as my Grandma calls them) and a large brimmed gardening hat is sitting near me all a fluster. When you watch movies, you really only see these huge brims on caps when the scene has the character gardening, thus she was rocking a gardening hat. She asks me about all the stops and I gladly let her know that her exit is coming up in the next three and I will let her know when to stand.

The wheels on the bus go round and round and I let her know its almost time for her to depart. Now, she must have taken a good three minutes to come stand beside me by the back exit. She stood up slowly out of her chair, swayed back and forth, back and forth, and then in one sudden movement, she leaps to stand next to me. A whole different ensemble than my previous monkey-gymnast-stripper pole moves. She was more like a turtle standing up, then a drunk man and a fawn in a meadow.

Now, I get to thinking with a creative stream of consciousness, if I were to ever write a bus musical, "Snob On A Bus, The Busical", I would have such the most wonderful time choreographing the dance scenes of passengers on the bus whilst moving. One of my best friends, Matty would have to do some research and really choreograph and star in the whole thing. Dancing is definitely not my genius. I am bringing back the Cabbage Patch dance if that gives you any notion.

I would also star my friend that dances in New York, Sarita Moore as the main lead. She is tall and muscular and could really capture every single one of these movements.

A Broadway hit in the making: starring movements of the monkeys, turtles, fawn and well, strippers. Now that is a hit! You have to see it today. Jump on a bus! Tickets only $1.25!

Blog writing, hmmmph. Broadway, here I come....on the bus, of course!

Sister Patty and Her Party Bus

2010-01-08T22:40:00.000-08:00

So late night on the bus...

visual: Casual California evening attire for dinner, drinks and a little dancing call for actual denim jeans, a leopard print baggy yet all too trendy sweater and ... wait for it ... black high heels and a beaded headband run to the bus in the early hours after a fun-filled evening.

My best friend came to visit this past week. He is quite the character and we always find a good time wherever we go. Best part, he was so completely down to ride the bus all over town with me and I was all too excited to share my bus adventures with him!

So, this evening we went out to dinner in Venice at a great little spot. After some delicious entrees and one too many bottles of wine, my dear friend and I make it down to a birthday shin dig to dance away the evening. We were carpooling with said best friend's family and they dropped us off at our location in Santa Monica, knowing we would be in safe hands taking the bus back home. We drink, dance, carry on as happy people do for the rest of the evening.

Well, 1:30am rolls around and our departure time has arrived. Our friends are scattered. Some here. Some there. We announce our bus carriage is waiting and a couple other friends are riding with us. An all out party continuation on the best bus in the World, the Metro 720.

We stumble to the stop and wave down the bus as it nearly passes us by! We all jump on and insert our $1.25. I would love to say we entered quietly and found our seats home on this wonderful, sober ride - but that is not the case.

The party was not over for us.

We sit right down in front and have a good time with our bus driver. She was a firecracker just laughing at us and calling us all idiots. She had red lipstick and a voice that carried. I told her I thought she was awesome and wanted to submit her to the Metro bus services to be a candidate for the award for best late night bus driver. She got a kick out of that one. I have submitted her badge number and given her praises for patience and FUN!

She declined in telling me her name and thus somehow in my state of red wine consumption and dance hall delirium, she was deemed 'Patricia'. And then she became our SISTER PATTY! What a riot, she was hootin and hollering by now. Sister Patty, the lovely bus driver who took got us all safely home.

Now, if you do recall my Metro Christmas list, I did have on there that the Metro is like an all out party bus with good times and good friends. Also, I had a question about bus security. As I often see the Metro Police cars driving around, but never any Metro Police People on my bus. Ever.

What do you know if at the fourth stop, a larger security gentleman joined us on the bus.

Now, whether he was there for our protection or heading home after a long evening of security, I do not know. I check it off my wish list, regardless.

I was so happy. In that moment. With my dear friends riding my favorite bus.

Now, I know Sister Patty had a good time. All my friends had a great time. And the bus served this community well, as none of us on that bus had gotten behind the wheel of a car or handles of a bike and endangered the life of ourselves or another.

I thank the LA Metro for running at such later hours. Providing fun bus drivers like Sister Patty, security and safe rides.

I thank my friends for being just fun and choosing the bus route to get home safely. I am so lucky to have best friends that can experience public transit in a way that most never will.

I cherish this evening.

Oh. And last but not least, I apologize for the passengers in the back of the bus looking at us like we were crazy! I cherish you, too.

Have fun! Love life! Be happy in every moment!

Grandma On the Bus! A Friend On the Bus!

2010-01-07T23:29:00.000-08:00

Part I

So today on the bus....

visual: Bringing back the 80's, I rock my luluelmon athletica purple denim leggings, a bright blue v-neck long sleeve and royal blue Haviana sandals. My green shades add a splash of color up top, with my cumbersome backpack and yoga mat strapped on and my hair is whisked back in some high ponytail mess. Beach cruiser in hand, I wait for the bus.

I took myself on a breakfast date this morning. I figured it would be nice to sit at a lovely little coffee shop outside the bus stop and just sip a nice latte and start my day right. Well, it always sounds good in theory. But, I get so bored. So I pull out my to do list. And then I whip out the cellular device, its hits me.

Grandma!

I dial up my Grandparents on the speed dial on my phone. I have about thirty minutes to kill before I need to be heading for the bus. Let's catch up with one of my best friends.

So Grandma and I chat and catch up. She is having coffee in the comfort of her home that is covered in snow. Thus, we seemingly have a little coffee date going on, me in California and she in Indiana. Fast forward a half hour and I am waiting for the bus, cell phone clenched between the ear and shoulder, and beach cruiser leaning into my right hand. Yes, Grandma is still on the phone. She is a talker and I love it.

I am at a bus stop a couple blocks from my usual post, as the aforementioned cute coffee shop is a little bike ride from home. My 720 Rapid Metro arrives and I interrupt Grandma and tell her I have to put my bike on the front of the bus. I haven't done this in a while, so I am a bit out of practice. Grandma goes directly to my heart, as in I throw my phone down my sports bra and tell her to just hang on a moment. I throw down the kickstand and run to the front. Unleash the gate down and grab the bike. Now, I do not know if any of you have every picked up a beach cruiser. Well, they are heavy! This isn't a light nothing weight road bike, we are talking bike with basket and huge handle bars. I pick it up and all the sudden the front wheel does a complete turn. I'm in hell. I almost fall over, the back wheel is in its place while the front wheel is just messing up this entire process. I start to sweat. Great! Sweat is going to get on my phone! I re-focus, turn the wheel around, give a thumbs up to the bus driver and jump on.

Phew. "Grandma, you still there?"

Of course she is.

Now, as you all know, I am not a huge advocate of phone talkers on the cell phone. How can I have an authentic connection with a bus passenger while yapping away on the Blackberry?

However, when it comes to Grandma, all rules go out the window.

And I figure, if people knew I was talking to her, they would be okay with it. She makes me smile and you can tell I am beaming over her topics of conversation: family gossip, church meetings and fresh baked pies, her treadmill she thinks is broken but totally is not, my grandpa, sports, the past holiday and her favorite presents, a potential trip to Palm Desert, engagements, .... I mean anything and everything, we covered it.

As we end the conversation half way through my bus ride, I feel confident that I did not bother anyone sitting near me. I enjoyed my conversation and really do feel that being on the bus allowed me to completely be present and listen to Grandma, versus if I were driving probably on a low gas tank (as I have admitted, I am a terrible driver), worrying about a speeding ticket or cell phone while driving ticket, and paying attention to the road only half the time and the other half to my firecracker of a Grandma.

See! There are so many advantages of riding the bus. To name a few:

Going green and saving the Earth.

Saving your hard-earned money.

Meeting great people and making their day.

Connecting with family.

So, get on the bus and call Grandma!

Part II

So tonight on the bus...

visual: Bringing back the 80's, I am still rocking my luluelmon athletica purple denim leggings, a bright blue v-neck long sleeve and royal blue Haviana sandals. I carry my cumbersome backpack and yoga mat strapped to it and my hair is now tied back with a matching purple headband trying to maintain the disheveled high ponytail mess after a long day's work. Beach cruiser in hand, rolling toward the bus home.

The ride home this evening is very special. My fellow lululemon colleague, Jenna is riding the bus home with me. We live near one another and thus the Rapid 720 is our mode of transportation this eve. A friend on the bus!

After a long day of work, we mosey along down the street to the bus stop. Seeing the big red flash rush across the intersection, we rush to jump on, waiving and flailing our arms as we are crossing the street near the stop. I am pushing my beach cruiser as fast as my flip flopped feet can go. We get to the front of the bus and to my dismay, oh no, the bike rack is about to be full. There are two spaces available and a man in his helmet and blinking lights is filling the last spot. Noooo! Jenna looks to the bus driver, "can she bring it on the bus??"

I feel like we are in a movie. So much drama. Running to the bus. Over-dramatic flailing movements, our body language screaming, "Don't leave us here in Beverly Hills!". A quick rush of emotion as the spaces are full for my bike that MUST make it home. We look to the bus driver with a scared and almost begging request. And we wait for her response...on pins and needles, as if this answer will make or break our entire day! Jenna is an actress, you know.

The bus driver is a shorter woman who seems so small in her huge, lifted bus chair, over-sized steering wheel and bus driving vest. She smiles and says there is a space in the back that you can lift the seats up and hold the bike in the open space. My face lights up! Bike on the bus? I can just lift it on with me? No fear of the gate on the front falling off? I am delighted. I run my bike to the back and lift it on. What a new experience.

Jenna holds the bike as I head to the front and pay my quarters. I thank the bus driver ever so graciously, as I thought I was going to have to wait the ten to twelves minutes for the next bus. I ask the rules of bikes on the bus. She informs me that it has to do with the time of day, passenger capacity, safety, and bus driver permission.

Good to know.

So, I ride along in the back of the bus with Jenna and my bike. What a great day. First of all, a friend on the bus. This never happens! And then the bikes gets to come with me! Its like when people find out they can bring their beloved dog with them in the retail store and they don't have to chain them to a meter outside, a weight is lifted. This is how I feel about my bike.

Frosting on this cake of a bus ride!

So, now you know, when the bike rack is full up front, there is available space in back. All you have to do is ask. Just remember, time of day, passenger allowance, safety and bus driver permission.

I know I would have just waved the bus on and waited for the bus. Thank you Jenna asked for me! As they say, "that's what friends are for".

So, essentially, I got to ride the bus to and fro today with friends on the bus. The first bus I rode connectiong with Grandma, as if she were right next to me in the comfort of my favorite bus. And the bus home, I rode with my dear friend, Jenna (well, and if you consider your bike a friend. I believe I do).

So, get on the bus and invite all your friends!

A Different Level of Beauty

2010-01-04T09:56:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: Cozy and warm in my very bright and favorite lululemon athletica avocado green jacket with the brightest of blue hip pants topped with an orange-red tank is my outfit today. Hair pinned back in quite a mess and tapping my green and navy blue Nikes, I wait for the bus.

The sun sneaks slowly into sight to wish me a very early 'Good Morning' as I speed walk towards Wilshire Boulevard. Damn, there it goes! My beloved Rapid 720 bus rushes right across the intersection as I am about two minutes too late to make that one! Just two blocks from the bus stop. It is almost mean when I can see it pick everyone up as I am stuck at the crosswalk.

I take the just-missed-the-bus opportunity to fill my sustainable coffee cup with a convenient cup of coffee from the 711 store behind my stop. I apologize to the man asking for change clad in a yellow button down and dark jeans leaning near his belongings and asking for money right at the entrance. Spare change is my means of transportation!

Anyways, so, I got a new sustainable mug from The Paper Source in Beverly Hills last week. It is really snazzy! It is all porcelain and actually looks just like a paper Starbucks to-go coffee cup - yet mine is eco-friendly AND reusable! (see image). I fill it up with a bold blend and two amaretto creams and head back out to my stop. I had somehow got the urge to pull out a dollar for my friend at the entrance, but he was not standing there. His loss.

As I am enjoying my warm cup of java, the man from the 711 entrance must of felt my kindness energy and comes up behind me and almost startles me. He waves a crisp dollar bill around and asks if I have change. Smart man - of course I have change, I am a bus rider! I explain that I do not have enough for both me and him to get to and from work. I smile and then glance for my bus that is nowhere in sight. I question the snobby snub I could give him right now, or I could speak with him and be the possibility of love for another human being. He looks me up and down and comments on my bright clothing, "Damn girl, you have a lot of colors on! You look very nice." I thank him, give him that chance, and share with him that I rarely wear black and colors just seem more fun. He chuckles and I see that he is missing his front four teeth. Somehow, it makes the smile better! He leans against the bus post behind me and continues the up and down looks. I smile, disregarding the degradation...maybe he enjoys the clothing design or color combination, I tell myself in a search-for-a-positive type of thinking. I tell him that the yellow button down is a nice look for him. He smiles, making actual eye contact and opens up a bit.

We embark in conversation and talk about the holidays that had recently passed and wish one another a happy new year. He had been "here, there and everywhere" for the holidays. I respond, "me too!". He went to Downtown LA and also had dinner at the Civic Center in Santa Monica, said he had a real nice time. I shared about my Grandma's house and New Year's Eve parties. His "here,there and everywhere" were a bit different than mine. But that really didn't matter - just sharing holiday love. We finally introduce ourselves, Anthony is his name. He asks where I am going and I think to myself that he might actually ride with me as I inform him that my place of work was in Beverly Hills at lululemon athletica. He assures me that he hangs out in the area often and maybe our paths will cross again, but not today. I smile. One more up and down look and he shares, "You sure are pretty". I tell him that it must be the colors, they make me so happy! He laughs and we bid one other good bye as he walks back to his post by the entrance at the 711.

Just a note, I do not know the stigma I have about homeless people. I always feel a very specific and combined feeling of guilt, fear and danger that I ultimately have to get over. Why is that an automatic response? Anthony - although I could have done without the up and down looks - was a very kind, energetic and talkative man. Just probably wanted an authentic conversation with someone who smiled back, teeth or no teeth.

My interaction with him triggers a conversation this past week; I write for LA Yoga Magazine and I had interviewed a gentleman from Santa Barbara, Anthony Carroccio. (Weird, his name was Anthony, too). He is the founder of Organic Soup Kitchen, serving organic and wholesome meals for individuals and families in need (http://www.organicsoupkitchen.org/). Only in California, I think to myself, is there an organic soup kitchen. As I am talking to him over the phone and just eating up his East Coast accent, he informs me of something all too relative. He shares, "You know, these people I talk to and serve food to, they are no different from you and me. They are smart and wonderful and very talented. They just hit a bump along the road somewhere. Really, just the same as you and me...". I think about this statement as I had just shared an authentic connection with my bus stop Anthony with his four missing teeth and life outside of 711 Convenient Store. He is a human being, just like me. We can communicate and share seven minutes of our lives with one another while I wait for my bus.

No fear.

No danger.

No guilt.

Just love. And my heart opens a bit in this realization.

My bus finally arrives and I jump on with this new way of thinking. Not too many passengers on the bus when the sun is waking up, so I sit in front and think about social stereotypes; a common theme as of late.

A few stop along the way a nice gentlemen sits down across from me with his messenger bag and black leather coat. He has the smile and this we are going to have a conversation look in his eyes, which I wonder if that is exactly how I look every day on the bus. Talk to me! Inspire me! Somebody!

So, I say hello and he smiles and say hi back. And he jumps into all sorts of questions. Where I work, where I am from and how very bright my outfit is. He speaks very quickly and tells me of his past, his days in my home state of Texas, how he works for a gas and energy firm in Beverly Hills, and that he is happy with his life in LA. His name is Lonnie and we shake hands from across the bus. I think, what a cool picture if captured. The photos could be called "Authentic Connection in Transit". I digress with a burst of creativity. So, as we shake, I lean across the aisle, look him in the eyes and tell him it is a pleasure to talk with him. And then, he tells me how pretty I look today!

Again?

I mean, I must have done something different with my hair. Did I put on eyeliner today? This early? Not possible. I smile and thank him.

I recall an interview with Drew Barrymore I read in People Magazine when I was younger. One that I truly believe and one that I have never forgotten:

"I just think happiness is what makes you pretty. Period. Happy people are beautiful. They become like a mirror and they reflect that happiness. If somebody walks in the room and they're drop-dead gorgeous and sexy, it's really fun to look at. But if someone is giving of their spirit and they make you laugh and feel good, that's a whole other level of beauty. " (People, Vol. 67, No. 18)

Thus, I inform dear Lonnie, " I am just happy. Happy people are beautiful. You are beautiful!". He looks at me a little strange. Oh, did I got too deep, am I the uber happy, intense girl on the bus that smiles too much"? He chuckles and agrees. I nod and pull my tab for my departure. I wish his beautiful, happy face well and thank my bus driver.

A little hop in my step as Anthony and Lonnie had just made my day, I feel truly beautiful walking across the street to work! And, I thought I was having a really bad hair day. I mean, I knew the outfit was a bit loud. And man, was I tired being up before the sun! But none of that matters, I became a mirror and reflected my authentic happiness. Just as my dudes did off and on the bus today!

An authentic connection.

Happiness shared.

Beautiful.

Make someone laugh. Smile. Choose happiness. Be that whole other level of beauty today!

2009: Snobbery Recap

2010-01-01T13:34:00.000-08:00

I wanted to share with you my 2009 learnings from last year's life of a Snob On A Bus:

1) Reach out and touch someone! Hug, high five, hold hands, kiss .... just share the love.

2) Who talks about the weather with strangers? Let's set some goals together!

3) Get over yourself! Someone cannot be judging you while they are sleeping.

4) You do not have to speak with the same language to communice. Try smiles and laughter.

5) After taking your beachcruiser bike off the front of the bus gate, please place gate upright beore the bus driver can yell at you.

6) If your bus stop shares different bus lines and you want to get on that bus, you better wave it down.

7) You can be that change you want to see in the world.

8) Why waste time caring what other people think? Go ahead, pick your nose on the bus!

9) Be the possibility of love for ALL people.

10) If the Bus reads WESTWOOD in the neon letters above, it stops in Westwood and it is the LAST STOP. Wait for the bus with the right location.

11) Stereotypes Schmeroshtypes! Be open.

12) However, Midwesterners really do have that feel-good vibe. You just know!

13) GO GREEN! Try the bus!

14) Make a Choice. Right Now. 2010 will be the BEST year. Done!

15) Are you listening to me? How are you listening? Listen with an open heart.

16) When expectations are not met, communicate!

17) Life can catch you off guard. Keep on ridin' that bus of life.

18) Very, very OLD men just love me. Period.

19) Give thanks where THANKS is due. Send that email, provide feedback, thank your mom...

20) My family is my saving grace. Always. And thank you family for being that.

21) I never dreamed I would have a Metro Christmas List. Life is funny.

22) I have a bus preference, Rapid 720 baby! A new found Bus Snobbery.

23) I enjoy the bus. Who knew?

24) Set Goals. Create your future. Live with Intention. Welcome 2010!

Happy New Year to ALL from this Snob On A Bus' heart to your heart.

I wish you health, wealth, happiness, love and a beautiful and very green future.

Right Into This Man's Lap. Crash!

2009-12-31T12:40:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

HAPPY DECADE'S EVE!

visual: lululemon black Groove Pants with a green plaid waistband matching my green plaid headband, bright orangish-red tank and black Shape jacket groove to the bus in my ever so comfortable UGG boots and green stunner shades.

I am feeling a bit rushed today as I scoot out of my apartment and head to a new bus stop. It is actually much closer than my Rapid 720 Bus stop. I would estimate roughly 32 steps from my front door to this local bus stop. Now, you know my dedication to the Rapid bus versus the local bus line, but I am open minded as I wait for the Big Blue Bus #14.

Reason for new bus stop is my NIA dance class I am attending this morning is on a different side of town. I have requested the Irish River Dance theme, hence my green plaid attire! Very exciting. New dance moves to end my 2009 and a new bus route. Watch out 2010!

My bus arrives right on time and I jump on and greet my very friendly bus driver and wish him a Happy New Year's Eve. Not a soul on the bus, just me. Strange. Very clean bus, yet almost sterile. Our Metro line has to get some life in it. Pimp my Bus Ride, MTV!

We twist through neighborhoods at a rather rapid pace. A longer route than usual due to the local line and all its stops, but still good timing. We pick up a handful of passengers here and there. An older woman sits across from me with these huge reading glasses and a larger purse, a group of kids jump on and move towards the back and a couple other strangers scatter to fill my new bus.

Now, the woman across from me is silent for a bit then dives into a conversation, with herself. There is a young gentleman sitting near her and we glance and smile at one another understanding the present moment. She is speaking about X-Rays and pains and health conditions. I notice she is talking to someone, not necessarily just talking to herself. So interesting. I always wonder about people who speak with themselves on the bus. Are they talking to themselves? Are they speaking with someone that they believe is sitting and/or standing next to them? Are they talking so I might respond? I guess they never get lonely as they always have someone to talk to at all times.

Regardless, she rambles on. As we approach her stop she stands up ever so gracefully and asks the bus driver to be as close to the intersection near her bus stop as possible, as she is just so tired. He complies. She nods and goes back to her seat.

How nice of the bus driver to allow her a little less walking time. So friendly.

We approach her stop and she stands to exit and reaches for the hanging loop for balance. However, she somehow loses that graceful balance she had just exemplified and swings around and falls on the younger gentleman that was sitting near her. She literally falls straight into his lap and flails around for a moment. He helps her up. She apologizes, saying she did not mean to do that and gathers herself to depart.

I am in shock. I wish I had a video to connect to this - as I would reenact the entire display for you. visual: Feeble older woman. Huge reading glasses. Large purse. Slowly stands up and reaches for the loop. Imagine a large rope that kids swing on in the movies then drop in a lake. Or a monkey hanging from a tree and swinging from one long arm. That is what she looked like: She held on tight and just swung around and RIGHT into this man's lap. Crash! Old woman arms and legs flailing around and the man's eyes wide and trying to help her up.

I think my mouth dropped open. It was like a car accident and I could not avert my attention for the life of me.

As she departed, I look to the man who had just helped her off of his lap and we both start smiling and quietly laughing as the image replays and we contemplate, "did that just happen?".

I really have to wonder if it was an accident. The bus did not stop all that hard. And, as an avid bus rider, you learn the ways of a moving bus. Especially when you are holding on to the loops for balance!

Thus, I ponder. I think about my life and human touch. I probably receive an average of six to ten hugs a day. That is a lot of love in my book. When I am with my family or friends, the number sky rockets. I love the energy transfer and the affection that comes with the human touch. Be it a warm embrace, a shoulder laying on another, holding someones hand or even a high five - it comes from a place of acknowledgement and love. And that is really what we all want at the end of the day, love.

In the one of my favorite films of 2004, Crash there is an incredible quote pertaining to this exact occurrence with the older woman on the bus:

"It's the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A., nobody touches you. We're always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something."

I agree with this completely. People avoid all human contact. I really believe that woman fell on to that young gentleman on purpose. She needed love. The energy transfer. Human touch.

One of my first bus experiences in Santa Monica was with a homeless woman in sequence pants asking me for a hug at my bus stop. She just needed love. If only for that moment. And I sure hugged her.

What would life be with out that interaction? Reach out and love someone today. Literally share the human touch and truly feel it.

Midwest Hearts Goal-Setting

2009-12-30T19:02:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: Hot pink lululemon athletica fleece over my gray knit leggings tucked in my lite gray with purple striped legwarmers step quickly in my blue Haviana flip flops to the bus today. A heavier purple backpack slows the process as my yoga mat is strapped in and I am ready to take the day.

I had one of those mornings where I walk out the doors and the sun is not even up yet as it was so early and a bit overcast. I feel as if I am forgetting something. Upon turning the corner from my street, I had to double check for my keys. Six steps later, make sure I have five quarters and my wallet. Seventeen steps later, did I bring my daily planner? Took me forever to get to the bus stop with all the double checking. What kind of day is this going to be?

I arrive on time and wait patiently. It is chilly compared to the past couple of days and I am now reconsidering my flip flop choice, as my UGG boots sit behind that locked door in my cozy apartment. The bus approaches, no decision making there. 720 all the way. I am on and ready to roll. Thank You Ms. Bus Driver and front seat for me this morning with the heavy and somewhat cumbersome load.

In observing my bus trek, I see a woman with quite a few bags in the first row and a gentleman in a snowflake sweater near my seat. I am smiling and nodding, but no eye contact and no response.

A gentleman approaches the bus driver in between stops. He is carrying a bottle of something and is whispering to the bus driver. I lean in a bit and they are talking about a trash can. I catch a glimpse of the object in his hand, it contained some type of drugs or curios substance. Must have fallen out of a previous passenger's pocket on their ride. I lose stuff all the time: water bottle, sustainable coffee cup, journal, candy cane.... So we pull over to the nearest sidewalk trash can and the gentleman throws it out.

How epic. A drug find on my early Metro ride, and a cool enough citizen to get it off the bus, off the streets, and in the trash. Bus riders saving the World!

At the next stop, a kind gentleman sits down in my row. One seat open between us, we greet one another and begin conversation. He is very cordial and I recognize the vibe. He reveals his Midwest roots from Illinois - I knew it! I told him I went to school at Indiana University and I was a Hoosier at heart! Immediate connection. It is a Midwestern thing.

We talk about his life in LA. He used to be in the Air Force and he smiles a lot. He shares his goals and talks to me about his plan to be in Montana on a farm with two horses by this time next year. I share my goals and a move away from our sunshine city in my future and reveal that the Midwest or Colorado is calling my name. He is delighted. Look at us, goal setting on the LA Metro. My favorite pastime in life, goal setting.

My exit approaches and I wish him well in his future in Montana. We depart and I feel somewhat uplifted.

As I head towards Beverly Hills, I think about my past year, my present bus-riding, yoga-loving, people-meeting life, and my future. I love that I get to leave a conversation on the bus that inspires me to polish up my goals for the fast approaching New Year, New Decade! We could have talked about the weather or the economy, but we chose to talk about how incredible our lives are and where they are going.

Talk goals with someone today. See what you find.

Make A Choice. Right Now. At This Very Moment.

2009-12-27T10:05:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: My bright green sunglasses covered by my dark brown hair that I am actually wearing down today with the most bright of a hot pink racerback tank over a lite grey pair of lululemon sweatpants hiked up to capri length to showcase my bright blue flip flops, waiting groggily at the bus stop today.

I lack the usual jump in my step today. I am coming down from the holiday bliss and craze, if you can have both at one time, I did. I approach my stop to notice that there are no other passengers waiting, I always take this as a sure sign that a bus has just passed and scooped everyone up. I inch closer to the 711 convenient store and consider a taquito! They have a large poster up in the window with a Sherlock Holmes Movie ad with the taquitos showcased on that same poster. Odd. However, my logic tells me, "well, I just saw Sherlock Holmes last night, so I should probably have one of those grease-filled, crunchy and delicious taquitos. I mean, they are combined on the advertisement! It only makes sense.". Ridiculous what we can make ourselves believe. I opt out for a protein bar and regret every bite as I wait for the bus.

A couple stragglers finally arrive to wait with me at the bus stop. Sundays are a slower day for bus traffic in the afternoon. The bus arrives and we all jump on.

The bus driver is handing out some type of pamphlet to everyone. Somehow, I get skipped. I guess he did not want me to have this coveted bus news. What if they are offering free days? What if my route has been changed? What if my blog is featured in that pamphlet?

I venture towards the back of the bus today and ride along in silence. I was chatting away on my cell phone at one point, but I quickly disconnect the phone call after someone sits down next to me. I gaze around. My normal take on the bus. But today, I feel different. Something is not clicking for me. I don't want to say hi to the woman next to me. I don't want to just go up and ask for a pamphlet. I don't want to change the World today. I feel so tired. How weird?

In exiting the bus I rush across the street where Santa Claus and his Reindeer still float above on their clothesline above Beverly Drive. As I enter into Beverly Hills, I feel so out of sorts.

In realizing what just happened, I scoff. I just had the most awful attitude on the bus. Selfish. Tired. An almost ugly attitude. Okay, it was just plain ugly! Wondering why the bus driver didn't give me a pamphlet? Did I even thank him? Not saying hi to the lady beside me, as I had felt she had given me the up and down look of disapproval. Being secretly jealous of this older gentleman's jumpsuit and shiny jacket he was wearing - so 80's, so out there, so awesome!

Who was I in that moment on the bus today? I don't even recognize her.

And there it was. My answer. I had made that choice today. Made the choice to be Oscar the Grouch, no longer found on Sesame Street but clad in lululemon atheltica on the Metro Rapid 720! I did not want to change the World today. I did not want to be out for greatness today. I had given up for that very life moment.

Disgusting!

Who I am being every day is a direct correlation to who I am for the World, my family, my friends, my team at lululemon, strangers on the bus.... for myself. If I face a day with a bad attitude, that is exactly what that day gets. I am thankful for the distinction. I am thankful that I can look at who I was on that bus today, shake my head, and choose a different attitude right now at this very moment.

We all have that choice. Make the distinction. I quote Mahatma Gandhi, "Be the change you want to see in the World".

On my bus today, I blended in, sat back, and did absolutely nothing.

On my bus tomorrow, I will change the World.

2009-12-25T18:30:00.000-08:00

It is funny. Out of all the streets in Beverly Hills decorated with snowflakes and twinkle lights over the street, my bus stop got Santa and his reindeer. (See photo taken by my Blackberry upon exiting my Metro Rapid 720).

I am a holiday junkie. I listen to the Christmas jams before the Thanksgiving meal is done. I spread cheer and I love what it means for the World. Family, a much needed break from work, school, life... Love, gratitude and parties!

From this Snob On A Bus' heart to your heart, "I wish you health, wealth, happiness and all the love in the world" this holiday season.

Be thankful, go green, set goals, and live with intention!

Warmly,

Snob On a Bus

Enjoy The Ride and Be Present

2009-12-18T14:23:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: A vision of all black waits for the bus today until you scan down and see the HOT PINK legwarmers over my green and navy Nikes. The lululemon holiday tee is worn again with inspirational quotes reading, "LOVE" and "Do One Thing A Day That Scares You" loudly across my chest. Green sunglasses and the purple backpack accessorize this ensemble as I rush to catch the bus.

I had no idea it was as hot as it was outside today. All black and legwarmers caused for a slight glow as I power walk to my bus stop. My empty stomach is speaking some type of absurd language as I approach the stop in front of the 711. Pavlov's Theory kicks in as I recall the insanely gross but somehow delicious taquitos they serve for $1.09. I panic as my stomach is screaming and my bus is not in sight.

I make the choice!

Purple backpack bouncing and sweat glistening, I approach the counter, "I just need one taquito! You pick the flavor and please do not make me miss the bus". The man at the counter rushes to get my snack and as he is slowly and carefully placing the sanitary blue gloves on his hand, my bus pulls up outside. PANIC. "It is here! Just throw it to me, please!" He rushes and we exchange money for disgusting grease in the shape of tortilla and what seems to be meat. And I literally run for the bus and made it just in time.

Well great. Now I am full on sweating, thank goodness I am wearing all black. I step on and the bus is slammed. My memory bank shuffles to my annoyance of McDonald's smell on the bus, so I smash my 711 snack in my backpack and stand at the front.

The bus driver takes off with a vengeance and I fall backwards. Yes. I fall into the person in the first seat, ever so lightly. Really!?! I apologize and face forwards.

These four people are conversing so loudly, so they avert the attention from my fall. What a trip this has been already. As I eavesdrop, per usual, I am so elated to hear people making friends on the bus. The four strangers had not met and were so excited. I smile for the bus networking I see here. A true bond. A mini bus party, if you will.

As we approach our next stop, there are two men in wheelchairs waiting to ride today - we all must exit the front of the bus and stampede the aisle to the back. I find a seat and await the long line of passengers at this stop. Afternoons are so crowded! They continue to rush through and an older woman with bright blue eyeliner walks by. I offer her my seat and move further back on the bus. I am now seated across from the new and very, very loud friends.

As the last few passengers seek a seat, a younger man's backpack brushes against one of the loud ladies with the tallest ponytail I have ever seen. And wow, did she ever make a scene. Complaining about people and backpacks and respect.

Finally, we all get situated, she calms down and the bus continues on on its route. I see a girl across from me reading what I have written on my shirt and smiling. I love that - all this time I complain about no inspiration on the bus advertisement, not realizing I just have to wear it! Amazing.

I comment on her book; she is reading "Eat, Pray, Love". I adored that book, such a great read. We converse about the author's travels, adventures, and style of writing. Then that awkward silence happens when we can no longer talk about the book and we both start looking around aimlessly as the loud people continue to jabber on and on and exchange phone numbers.

A dude to the right of me comments on my outfit, "Are you going to aerobics class?".

I chuckle and inform him I am going to my place of work, in which we sell yoga inspired athletic apparel. He comments that he has not seen legwarmers worn for normal wear and we then begin to talk about the 80's comeback that is taking place. Mind you, I have been wearing legwarmers for years. A trendy snob I have never been. Maybe a new era for me....

The loud friends continue to converse and conversation moves into some medical speak about milligrams and needs. I am beginning to wonder if this beautiful networking on the bus is more than what meets the eye. I disregard and check my Blackberry emails.

An older man enters the bus and I offer him my seat and begin to move to the exit for the next stop. Oh goodness me, if my backpack did not barely brush the loud ponytail woman. She goes off again, on me this time. "Watch it, you gonna knock my prayers outta me...you people and backpacks...". Ranting about disrespect and all this nonsense. Ironic, as I did not see her give up her seat for anyone, yet when I try to be nice, she has to freak out. I want to rear around and give her a piece of this, but before I do so, a nice man standing in front of me looks at me and says, "She just runnin' her mouth, ain't she?" and we both smile.

The dude who loves the 80's comes to stand by me at the exit and we discuss the bus. He is riding because his car was impounded yesterday. I told him I just ride to get from point A to point B. Truth of the matter. I share my bus knowledge and he jumps off when I do. I thank my driver, and we carry on. He asks where I work and we depart with a nice handshake.

I mean, what a bus ride today. I almost fall down. I get yelled at by the loudest woman on the bus. And, I get hit on.

I am exhausted before I even get to work. And my taquito is getting cold in my backpack!

I don't really think I even had time to learn anything. The bus was absolutely crazy today, at some points awkward and at others just scary. A lot was going on and my mind was just running. I cross the street just laughing.

So much of the time I want to live with intention, set goals and be something great for this World. I guess, I often forget to just live life. Just enjoy the ride and be present.

What a crazy way life chose to reminded me how.

11 Dimes for You

2009-12-16T23:03:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: Bright purple plaid rain jacket compliments my purple backpack atop my navy blue lululemon hip pants rather nicely. Rocking the green sunglasses - even though it is overcast - but they match my green shoes, so I make it work while trekking to the bus today....

It has been an odd past few days with rain in Los Angeles. Like real rain. People in LA get weird when it rains. First and foremost, they cannot drive in the rain. Period. Second, it is like the sunshine is their vitamin pack for the day - so everyone is kind of groggy. And lastly, the bus kind of smells like raunchy mildew when it rains. Unpleasant, but we deal.

So, I am on the bus today. My bus that is, the Rapid 720. And, I am really loving my color combination - I do feel like I can wear purple and this plaid is just out of sight. Great job lululemon athletica. I tip my headband to you.

Riding along and nothing interesting, surprisingly with all the bad drivers and energy shifting. Well, I am proven wrong, there is a woman wearing a winter cap with white snowflake designs, sweatpants, a visitor sticker, and carrying some large garbage bag for a purse. She decides to stand at the front and distract my bus driver with some ranting and raving. I smile. The bus driver is not responding but she just keeps going on and on. I love it.

So she starts digging in this garbage bag, right? Yelling and searching.

"Does anyone have change for a dollar?", she screams to the bus.

I am in shock. Someone actually talking to the people on the bus collectively. I dive for my wallet in my backpack. Yes, my wallet is purple. I search for coins.

"Does anyone have change? Hello! Is anyone listening to me?", she yells again while digging.

I laugh. No way did she just quote my last blog post lesson!

"Yes, yes! I am listening! And, I do have change for you", I reply from the middle of the bus and begin to walk towards her up front.

As I am standing there with my wallet open and counting dimes, she reiterates that she needs change for a dollar. Twice. I comply and hand her 11 dimes. I am in a good mood and figure I can give her one to grow on.

"Is that a dollar even?", she yells. I smile, tell her no and let her know I gave her one more, just in case. She blesses me and counts them out in her hand.

She then starts sharing about her visit with her son at the Veteran's Hospital. I get some of the most interesting bus friends when we go past that stop.

I am enthralled to know more. However, there is a woman taking photos and my winter hat wearing woman literally freaks out! She thinks she was snapped in a photo and goes haywire. She shares that she is paranoid. She does NOT like her photo taken. And then....

"God is with me! God will protect me! I have Angels and God", she starts to yell. She looks around to place blame and stares at the photographer. She looks at me and responds, "I trust you, you gave me an extra dime. But everyone else...." and she continues on this rant.

She finally departs at the next stop with her $1.10 in change. Still yelling about God and the Angels and telling all those standing on the sidewalk.

I take my seat. Eyes wide. What was that interaction? Man, I love the bus!

And here I go, pondering the meaning of life today. I wonder why that lady trusted me due to the extra dime? And, it was interesting how she ranted about paranoia and then shifted gears to let everyone know she is protected always.

I honestly believe that her belief in God and the Angels allow that woman to survive. She would go absolutely mental, well - even more so than she displayed - had she not thought that someone was loving and protecting her always. And I don't know, maybe God is on her side in more ways than one - with the Angels and all she was preaching.

It just leads me to wonder, do we all have some type of protection system we immediately turn to?

I know for me in my life, my family is most definitely one of those saving graces. I imagine if I was a crazy, winter-wearing-hat, paranoid lady screaming at some photographer, maybe I would calm myself down and start yelling about my family. How funny my Dad is or how he always, always, always says "I love you" when he gets off the phone. Or, how my Mom is such a rock in my life and literally makes me believe in me. And that my sisters are my best friends and will grow up to make this World a better place! What if I just started screaming that out loud. I wonder if people would think I was crazy or be jealous of my protection system. Maybe a little of both.

I think we all have those people, belief systems, love,... it can be anything in our lives that allow us to "calm down" in crazy situations, or in life. It is in those challenging moments that push us to the limit that we realize who and what they are.

For me, I like knowing my saving grace. My "I am in a rock and a hard place, throw me a bone here?" protection system..

Where do you go when you ask someone for change and are then paranoid about the photographer snapping your photo and that it just might be the end of all beings with that photo click?

I hope for you, somewhere safe, inspiring and beautiful.

And, I hope in turn, you are that for someone else, too.

Happy Holidays!

A Bus Snob? Yes.

2009-12-15T21:51:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: Weighted down today with not only the purple backpack, but also the over-sized, over-stuffed magenta patent leather gym bag digging into my shoulders, I wait. Bright ocean blue racerback tank peeking out from under the avocado green lululemon jacket which match my bright lime green sunglasses atop the brown herringbone spandex groove pants, yes you read that right, herringbone - and green Nike's wait on Sunset Boulevard for a new bus on this new day....

Its true everyone. I branched out today. I took a Right off my street instead of a Left and went and found a new bus route. Bus number 2. It is a local line. Blue bus, instead of the vibrant red bus I know and love. A bit different from what I might be used to, but I was up for this new challenge.

It is almost funny when you get in a rhythm. You feel so committed to your bus that you have taken daily and learned to know and trust. You know its exact stops and quirks. You have found a home on that bus 720 that moves so rapidly and wonderfully through this city of Los Angeles. Yes, as you can now see, I am dating Bus 720. Thus, I share the pain to leave it for a new one....

But it was time. I had a new gym membership and was in need of a different route. So, here I go.

My green Nike's move swiftly through Brentwood Village towards Sunset Boulevard. It is such a cute yuppy shopping area in a really pleasant part of town. Mid-walk, I seriously feel myself judging...myself. I am walking with not one bright colored lululemon bag, but two! I felt like some crazy bag lady. So you know, when you ride the bus, you don't have any car space or scooter seat space available to store your, well, your life. So packed up tight in both bags was what I needed for a full day - gym outfit (plus running shoes), work outfit (plus trendy tennis shoes), make-up bag, party outfit (plus black boots) for the birthday dinner I had later, and quarters. Yep, feeling pretty heavy here.

So, let's be honest, I had to drop the ego pronto. I didn't have enough energy for these bags, my full day, this new bus route, and my "poor me with all my bags and no space to keep it" complaints. I smiled, shook that off and arrived at my bus stop. I am a lean, 'green', earth-saving machine!

And there it was in about five seconds flat - my new bus.

I jump on, per usual, insert my quarters and thank my bus driver. He does not respond. Not near as friendly as my bus 720 drivers. Hmmph.

I take a seat in the front and notice the bus is so empty. Comparison game in my head, the bus 720 is so much better than this with people actually wanting to ride it. Hmmph hmmph.

Where are the TV's on this local 2?

Then I noticed the fabric on the seats. A gray background with blue, orange and red lightning bolts shooting down the seat. Inviting? Not so much. I miss my vibrant and 80's-like fabric on my bus.

And then, I hear the front door just rattling with the utmost of efforts upon every bump we hit. I am like, "Dang, I thought the screws were loose and the shocks were bad on my rush bus..."

I do notice a very cute, old man with a cardigan sweater with Charlie Brown zigzags across the front and high water khaki pants that reveal his thick white socks in his khaki-colored orthopedic sneakers. I smile. He stares blankly at the front of the bus.

And then I realize, I am a Snob on a Bus. But ironically, I am being snobby about the bus I ride. Have I moved from Snob on a Bus, to Bus Snob? I am comparing this no-fun, no-people, SLOW, no-shocks, "local" bus to my beautiful, rapid, friendly, fun bus #720.

Would you look at me? A true bus snob. I have favorites!

So now, I just feel funny. Well, and awesome. You know, I really have embraced this lifestyle change and live an amazing life with it. I wear a bicycle necklace around my neck, I use sustainable cups, I walk to the bus stop every day, I pack my life in bags to make it work, I found a Blackberry Application for public transit transportation, and I will always have quarters on me. And gosh darn, I like myself!

Life takes you in different directions. Places you thought you would never be. Did I think I would ever be riding the bus, no! Did I think I would ever be putting a beachcruiser on the front of the bus, definitely not! Did I ever think I would have a favorite bus route and bus type - hell no! I used to be "too cool" for public transportation, remember? I some times cringe at that thought. Who was I?

But now, what seemed like so much "no" and "never" in my life has now become a yes, yes, yes!

I think that transcends all things. What do you allow to be a "no" in your life that in actuality can really be a "yes"?

Can I go back to school at age 40?
Should I change jobs to do something I have passion for?
Can I stand for his/her greatness?
Can my life be bigger than this?
Can I be the next President?

Can I change the World?

A "no" to a "yes".

Try it.

Laughter Is a Beautiful Song

2009-12-10T13:58:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: Bright blue lululemon pants, black holiday tee with inspirational writing with the hot pink micro-fleece I found and love from Canada wait for the bus today. I smile as the sun is shining and it is chillier for LA weather, my green Nikes tap anxiously as my matching green sunglasses stare down Wilshire Boulevard.

It was a crowded on the Rapid 720 Bus today. I had to stand for most of the first part of the trip. I always feel like such a beacon of neon colors at the front, as no one is talking to one another and just staring around.

After a couple stops, I finally sit near the middle in a window spot. I wait with anticipation as my new bus riders enter the bus to fill the open seat next to me. Who is gonna sit by friendly me today? I almost feel bad for the person, what if they want to sleep? What if they don't want to have a great interaction? What if ... ehh, someone just sit down!

A man sitting a couple seats in front stands up and moves the two rows back to sit next to me. He is wearing a gray winter cap and on over-sized hooded sweatshirt. He is a larger man and almost cozy sitting next to me. I smile and we sit in silence for a moment. I wonder why he moved if he already had a comfortable seat?

As the bus powers on, we drive through the Wilshire Corridor, my favorite part of the drive - I just love all the trees and tall buildings and blue skies. I smile and look out the window. I turn to my new friends and start to speak without realizing he is already asleep! He rustles awake and I apologize and tell him I just wanted to point out to him how beautiful of a day it is today.

He smiles and wakes up a bit.

We begin to converse and share our backgrounds. His name was Mike and he was just wonderful. A deep, throaty voice and deep brown eyes with the wrinkles on the side when he smiled. I love those. When my Grandpa smiles his eyes almost disappear, it makes me melt every time. Mike had those eyes when he smiled.

We talk about where we are going, where we work and the weather. He asks me where I live and I tell him my story and city of residence. I pause and there is a silence, so of course, I ask him, "where do you live?".

He chuckles and shakes his head. He says, "I set myself up for this one" and looks back to me.

He shares that he lives downtown in Low Income Housing. He laughs a bit and talks of his past and tough times. I look at him, listen and smile. I talk about how I heard Downtown is really up and coming these days and how a roof over one's head is a roof over one's head.

I think I scared him a little bit. I just smiled. In my head I was just telling him, "I love you" and "Everything is going to be just fine and that you are doing a great job". And I think it exuded out of me. He opened up and thanked me for being so friendly. He told me I am probably good at customer service because I am good with people. I agreed and told I am pretty good in the fit rooms of lululemon athletica. I make all the ladies feel good in the spandex. He laughs. I laugh, too.

And then, I notice how much I love the sounds of laughter. Its almost harmonious when you and another human being laugh together. I cannot sing worth a darn, but I can harmonize with the best of them when it comes to laughing. And that is exactly what Mike and I did. We did not speak in a place of judgement, sadness or fear. We just laughed together.

As I informed him my stop was coming up, he looked at me and said he wished I could ride the rest of the way with him. And I really think that if I had the time and didn't have to be on time for work, I would have sat next to him the whole way.

Laughing.

As the old man had wished me "wealth, health and happiness always" on a previous bus ride adventure, I turn to Mike as I depart and wish him with a smile the most "wealth, health and happiness" and tell him that I believe in him and all that he is capable of.

He chuckles yet again and smiles.

We half hug. And I thank the bus driver and depart.

Share laughter today. Listen to it. It is so beautiful.

"Ay, You Even Payin' Attention?"

2009-12-08T23:47:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: The chestnut brown UGG boots were made for walkin, and that's just what they did in my lululemon turquoise Feel Good Pants (fancy name for our old school sweatpants), light blue long sleeve with comments like: "Sweat Once A Day" and "Breathe Deeply" all over, hidden only slightly beneath my knit salmon colored scarf and matching knit ivory arm warmers. Lastly, my bright purple backpack clinks with change and sustainalbe cups, as my bright green 'stunner shades' look West down Wilshire Boulevard for bus 720...

A beautiful, crisp LA morning. The sun was shining after a rainy day yesterday with a bright blue sky that almost perfectly matches my long sleeve. I enjoy a delicious brunch this morning w/ a friend discussing goal setting and communication before heading to the bus for work today. Perfect start!

I arrive at the bus stop, in a daze contemplating my to do list, work schedule, and mulling over my moments ago lunch conversation. The bus arrives almost one (1) minute after my arrival to the stop. That never happens! I step up with a smile and a mess of quarters, dimes and nickels - I had used the majority of my quarter roll for laundry yester-eve and had to break into my ELVIS bank for some much needed silver. I see that on my bus today, there are not one, but two (2) greeters for me! The bus driver himself, as well as a gentleman standing behind him. I count every coin until I see the meter hit $1.25. The man in the place of power behind the driver shouts hooray! I smile and high five him on the way to my seat. Funny.

I must note that in first seeing the two (2) Metro gentlemen, my thoughts race and I inquire to myself, "Is this a new bus protocol? Have these men been reading my Snob blog? Are they going to ask me questions about how to better the bus? Is this MY day?". Oh ya, I said all that ... in my head. Alas, the men did not seek me out for Metro advice or flag me down as I reached my stop. One day soon, LA Metro. I know it, one day soon you will come find me!

Anyways, so I find my seat in the very middle of the bus. That one seat with the accordion-like walls and moving floor. The bus is half full with sleepy passengers and many others busy with some type of hand-held device. I always wonder why the bus is so quiet? We are not at a library or in church? We are on our way to embark upon something great and make something happen, where my party people at? Not on this bus.

There is a young man sitting across from me in a black hooded sweatshirt, spiked black hair that could withstand the most powerful Texas hurricane, glasses and braces. He is avoiding contact and convrersation; lucky for him, his phone rings.

He is somewhat projecting with a deeper voice, so I take this as an invitation and eavesdrop to my heart's desire. As I am listening, I realize that the glaze-haired gentleman has to repeat himself numerous time. Thus, I am actually getting his story thrice over and somewhat annoyed with his friend on the other end. So of course, this gets me to thinking...

Are

We

Really

Listening?

Are we getting the message? Are you even going to get this message? Or, is it that we are too distracted? Caught up in our to-do lists, those crazy careers, the concern about the tight fitting pants due to that golden Belgian Waffle with whip cream and strawberries we had to order while saying "oh c'mon self, its the holidays, right?", or that laundry weeks overdue that we keep walking away from but it somehow follows us out...?

So, I am trying on a new form of listening. Just like trying on a new pair of boots or an all black outfit, I am trying on listening. I am now listening for commitments. Listening with presence and for intentions. When listening to someone, if I have not learned something new, then I was not truly listening.

If I have not learned something new, then I am not truly listening.

I repeat for emphasis. And, I do this because everyone speaks with intention. Yes, yes they do. Even if they speak to hear themselves talk, or solely to entertain another human being, to share something important, or to tell you a life goal - everyone speaks with intention. The questions is, are we listening for it? Or, are we choosing what we want to hear? Listening on a personal level? Shutting down when you disagree or if there is no benefit for you?

As I ride across from the young man, I am more into the conversation than the friend on the other line. I catch him at one point, he blatantly asks the caller, "Ay man, what are you doing over there? Are you eating or something? Watching TV? You even payin' attention?".

Thus, I call you out and ask you, in your life conversations, "Ay you, what are you doing over there? You paying attention? You even listening?"

Listen for the intention. Listen for the commitment.

Always, always learn something new.

Thanks Where Thanks is Due...

2009-12-07T15:34:00.000-08:00

Dear Snob on a Bus,

Thank you for your commendation of Line 720 operator. It was entered in our database with a copy forwarded to management staff responsible for this operator. A copy of your comments will also be placed in his personnel file.

- Metro Customer Relations

My heart smiled today when this email arrived in my inbox in response to my glowing review of the friendly and cordial bus driver, Art. I had given thanks where thanks was most definitely due, and the Metro responded! From this response, I realize that I can make a difference in the Metro system, elevate the bus driver, Art's life (and hopefully, his holiday bonus) and truly live my possibility of love and making a difference every day.

In my short time I have spent on this green Earth - I look back, well and forward, and I do have such a wonderful, beautiful life. As Ben Folds sang so eloquently, I truly am "the Luckiest". In realizing this, I wonder who I have been while living this wonderful life? As my bus driver, Art with a heart, received recognition from me and hopefully his management team - where do I begin with all the overdue acknowledgement in the rest of my life?

Acknowledgements such as: I have a simply amazing family. I tear up just writing about them because they literally rock my life in every way possible. I have a beautiful friend group that always stand for my greatness and life adventures. And, I absolutely love my job at lululemon athletica.

I realize that the way to truly thank those that have made our lives beautiful is to be that inspiration for anyone and everyone else. Keep passing on the gift.

Thus, I challenge you today to thank someone that has touched, moved and inspired you to greatness. Is it your family and friends, the amazing barista at Starbucks who is somehow glowing every morning at 6:00am, or that waiter that went above and beyond to give you the best dining experience? Oh, or maybe that writer that wrote something you truly enjoyed, or a stranger that chased you two blocks as you dropped a sock out of your laundry....

Be thankful.

Be love for another.

Be the best life you will live.... for yourself, and for anyone and everyone in this world!

Great Expectations

2009-12-06T17:57:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: Black lululemon halter tank, black leggings tucked into my new obsession of trendy yet casual black boots and a black jacket is me in the not-normal-for-me-Ninja-esque outfit today. A hot pink woven belt slightly sitting on my hips adds a much needed flare and a neatly placed baby blue headband in my tangled 'messy look' of hair complete the snob-ensemble as I wait at the bus stop with a little attitude in my stance....

I am excited about today. I always wear bright colors or some kind of insane combination of lululemon neon extremities. Not today. I am all business, all black rendition of sexy Sandra D from the movie, Grease about to rock out with John Travolta down the aisle of Bus 720. Or maybe a little, can't touch this, nuh nuh nuh....Hammer style. It is funny, I literally feel like 'hot shit' (in a good way), waiting for the bus. About to Charlie's Angles anyone that messes with me. HI-YAH!

Alright, I have gone too far with the outfit. Funny how it can kind of take over....

So, I step up to my bus and insert my cash. After today, I am now clear that NONE of the machines give back change, so my past couple of rides have hiked from $1.25 to a lofty $2.00 trip. I shake it off and mentally note to get quarters immediately.

I find a seat near the middle to spice things up. I have been riding in the front too much as of late. Still feeling pretty awesome in my outfit rushing through traffic on Wilshire Boulevard towards my place of work in the 90210, I am manifesting something amazing.

Couple stops and there he is! No, not the young, attractive rider from the other night...but my old man with the extremely overgrown and never-been-trimmed-ever eyebrows with his nice suit and fedora. I recall our exchange from the past, he did not speak very good English and we just smiled a lot at one another. It was such a beautiful way of communicating.

He grabs a seat a couple rows in front of me. He must have missed my huge smile, probably the all black clothing threw him a curve-ball. Shucks! I look like everyone else on the bus in these deep monotone colors and my belt is hidden behind the other seat rows. An older woman starts walking to the back of the bus and I vacate my seat and offer it to her. When I say older, I do not necessarily think she was that old, but she just had an old face. It was as if she had prematurely started to wrinkle around her eyes and started hunching over, with a somewhat younger energy. Something like that.... Anyways, she took my seat.

I, of course, jump up to stand by my old man friend. I tap his nicely dressed shoulder and kneel down to his under-fedora-hat-eye level. I remove the plaid sunglasses for the eye contact effect, awaiting recognition and all out rejoice as we are about to re-connect.

He turns slowly around and looks at me somewhat startled. I smile and ask if he remembers me? He is dumbfounded as my heart slowly starts to break and I try to remind him of our past bus ride in a quick, save me, remember me, please! kind of way. I shake his hand and formally re-introduce myself.

He responds with a shoulder shrug and says, "I'm Persian. Not good English".

Well damn. This monumental moment in my bus-riding life had just been seemingly squashed by his memory loss and lack of communication skills.

Then, he grabbed my hand and told me that I was very nice and pretty. I knew the all black outfit would get them, some how, some way. Guess this was it.

I squeeze his hand back and let my heart slowly mend. I stand back up beside him and stay there the whole rest of the ride. He looks up and smiles every so often and we carry on in this way until I reach my stop.

I ponder my expectations in that moment. I had hoped and wished he would light up at the vision of me, hug me and be so happy to see me, just as I was as I saw him slowly step up to the bus and find his seat. I had expected an old-man loving embrace, friendly conversation and an authentic name exchange.

When I realized he didn't remember me, I immediately took it personal. I had remembered everything from our once off encoutner. He was so wonderful and such a new experience for my bus rides. "Pshhh, whatever!", I thought. I'll just go back to the back of the bus and find a different seat and let my ego just rake up points on embarrassment, narcissism and disappointment. So there!

But, I stood there. Beside him. Tapped him lovingly on the shoulder and smiled when he glanced up every other two minutes. I had made the choice to be love for another and still very glad to see him and share this bus ride - even though he didn't remember what I thought was an unforgettable face, mine, on the LA Bus.

Expectations. When these are not met, they can literally rock the bus ride of life. Again, it is WHO we choose to be in that moment. The choice we make for the remaining part of that interaction, or the day, the year, our lives....

Disappointment, fear, embarrassment, anger and the likes lead us down a path of destruction. Who would I have been for my older Persian friends had I just written him off and sat down in the back? I'll tell you, I would have been nothing, lame, and no one great. Instead, I stood there and just was present and shared the space with him.

As I departed, I wished him a beautiful day and a smile. He nodded and smiled back. And that is really all I needed. The communication of smiling that I had so quickly forgotten when he didn't recognize me. When he could not respond to my word vomit of "remember me? remember? remember this?".... that to him was and still is complete gibberish. It was humbling. Beautiful. Amazing.

I am so thankful that I saw him again. A familiar and friendly face on the bus. And an all too necessary lesson about expectations and who we get to be every single day when those high demands and one-sided expectations are not met, we are let down, and what we actually get to create in that very moment.

Art with a Heart driving my Dream Ride with a Dude on the Bus

2009-12-03T19:45:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: A smile underneath a bright blue satin headband holding back one long day's worth of what once was a clean ponytail, bounces above the high collared avocado lululemon jacket with the neon orange tank top peeking over the knit gray leggings steps on the evening bus today in worn out VANS slip-on checkerboard sneakers (no socks)...

It happened.

It happened!

My dream bus ride happened TODAY!

Whilst wishing my beautiful, little sister a very happy birthday and discussing the outfit options she is going to wear out to party tonight, I quickly end the conversation and step up to drop my five (5) hard-earned quarters into the slot. I greet my bus driver, who is the most friendly, to a point of jolly, man I have encountered today. I thank him, smile and head back to my seat.

Are you ready for this?

So I decide to sit in between two (2) people in the front of the bus. Yes, there are available seats in the back but it is the evening bus, so I had scanned the front seats and my body somehow pulled me right between these two seated passengers. Who sits between two people on a not full bus? I do. Maybe it was the lady with the glasses and puffy white jacket exuding warmth. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the full navy suit and tie, attractive, young, and clean cut gentleman sitting in the other seat.

So, I sit silently for a minute. Pondering if this is real. No way. No way had I just talked to my mother this morning about the bus and how there is never, every anyone near my age range that I would want to vacate the bus seats and transplant directly to a bar, share a cold brew and great conversation with. Never.

Well, would you look at that, you big old jokester of a World.

So I sit silent a little longer. Looking around. Glancing at the Transit TV right behind the dude in a suit's head.

"Santa Monica and Wilshire!"

What is this? My friendly bus driver actually yells out the approaching stops. Am I dreaming?

Did the LA Metro actually receive my Christmas List?

Finally, I make eye contact with this mystery, 20-something year old, well-dressed, and seemingly going green bus-riding gentleman. "My bag matches your jacket", he says. I had already noticed and noted that it appeared to be a sustainable shopper of some sort, but pretend I had not. His was in actuality more of a darker lime green, but alas, same color family. I smile, enthusiastically agree and we embark in conversation.

His name was Peter. He worked for some International company doing some business with the Consulate and Peru. He spoke fluent Spanish. Originally from West LA, a rarity in this city of transplants. And he studied abroad in Spain while attending UC Santa Cruz. As you can see, we did the normal song and dance. "Where you from?" "I work for lululemon athletica in the area, have you heard of it?" "Oh ya, I know, the Transit TV is quite awful." "Yes, I agree MTV should pimp our ride." "Oh, I know, I probably should wear socks with my sneakers." Well, the normal song and dance for meeting someone. Someone like me. On the rush bus 720. In Los Angeles, California.

Halfway through our route and conversation, the friendly and polite people we are, we vacate our seats and make room for two (2) elder women with walkers boarding the bus who wanted to sit in the front. We make the move to the back to the taller seats across from one another. It was seriously the quickest bus ride I have ever taken! Thank God for my friendly bus driver yelling out the approaching stops, because I would not have even noticed. My fear of missing my stop from falling asleep on the bus would have come true, minus the falling asleep part and insert meeting dude on a bus part.

I pull the yellow stop request line, jump up at the sound of my street and tell this Peter dude on the bus that it was very nice to meet him.

"Do you ride the bus often?", he inquires with a smile.

"Every day. Every day, my friend" I shout as I depart from our shared seating area.

I chuckle to myself. Where most twenty-somethings my age would have more of the "You come here often" encounter at a bar, my life has twisted into, "You ride the bus often?". Good one, life. Pretty funny.

I ignore the sign that says Please Use Rear Exit and I stomp my sock-less VANS up to the front and tap my broad shouldered bus driver on the shoulder. I tell him I think he is just lovely and the most friendly bus driver I have EVER had. He smiles and blushes. His name was Art. Art with a heart, I think to myself! Seriously, the man had kind eyes. I told him I would write his boss man and let him know. He thanked me twice over and wished me "Merry Christmas". I blow him a kiss good bye and exit.

I think I literally did a cheerleader's hurkey off the bus. I walk my direction of home and wave to Peter through the window, still sitting on the bus, a smile and a good bye.

He smiles back and I almost think tips his imaginary hat. Weird, but awesome.

What a ride. I was laughing the whole way home. I had the most friendly bus driver. I met a nice LA boy in a suit who speaks Spanish and had recently returned from teaching English in South America. I get the idea, with aforementioned boy, to email MTV and ask them to PIMP MY RIDE, the LA BUS. And, I get to send a positive email to the LA bus system about Art. No complaints, just love.

Is it opposite day? Was that some kind of mirage?

I am not even kidding that the World works in mysterious ways. I had seriously been talking to my mother just this morning about meeting a dude on the bus. It happened. I mean, he did not get my number or anything, but still! CRAZY! And, I had seriously blogged last night about how to make the LA bus riding experience better for its passengers, and there was amazing Art with a huge heart yelling out directions and guiding us home with Christmas wishes.

Put it out there. Just put it out there. What do you want? Tell me what you want, what you really, really want (Spice Girls). Say it. Write it down. Be it. Because whatever it is, it will find you, if you want it to.

My Metro Christmas List...

2009-12-02T20:44:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: Very bright blue lululemon pants, lite blue burn out long sleeve peeking from beneath the beloved and almost over-worn avocado green lululemon jacket with the Elvis collar, which seemingly match my newly laundered lime green and navy Nikes carry the weight of Thanksgiving holiday and my deep purple backpack full of arm warmers, side-pockets full with my sustainable coffee cup and new, super sustainable blue "I love lululemon" SIGG water bottle.... wait for the bus today.

Approaching the bus stop, I see my 'man on wheels' surfer dude-friend, Jared. The one who insists my name is Penelope and rolls around the bus stop, wishing us all to have a great day or informing us that the "coast is clear" before the line of bus passengers disappear on to the 720 line. Well, he did not recognize me, or chose not to roll my way today. A bit disappointed, I turn to him and wave and remind HIM to have a great one and stepped up. I completely forgot to get quarters this morning at the holiday hut of a Coffee Bean by my house, so I dig the green paper out of my green jacket and slide it into the machine like an old school soda vendor. Well, of course, my dollars were crinkled and half folded. And to top it off, my bus driver informs me that it does not give change. I smile and tell him that it can be a tip for him with a little wink. He huffs and grants me a half, impatient smile. Still pushing them in, my dollars take at least four (4) tries to finally be eaten by that machine. I absolutely hate holding up the line! How in the world do the Los Angeles parking meters have a Credit Card option, yet the LA Public Transportation System does not? Insane. Who carries cash and quarters anymore....well, other than me on every other day of my bus-riding life? Who?

Finally, I find my seat in the middle of the bus with the accordion walls and roller coaster-like floor that moves when you hit a bump. I sit and look around quite a bit today. I ponder my surroundings. The Asian woman next to me does not speak English - I tried her when she sat down. I avoid the terrible Transit TV educational questions. I read the signs above the bus about free available health care, ghonneria and chlamydia home kits, and some signs in Spanish I cannot completely understand. I notice a couple graffiti tags on the railing. Oh, and there is a woman near the back inhaling a muffin that literally crumbles all down the front of her and in her chair. I think out of the 20 crumbs per bite ratio, maybe, just maybe five (5) crumbs made it in her mouth. And of course, the fabric screaming at me with its oranges, red and bright blue fibers full of who-know-what kind of unsanitary items, year-old muffin crumblies, and probably some type of virus or two (2).

I take a deep breathe.

Looking for a smile. Taking a poll of the passengers and so many open seats. Seeking my old man friends that are always so sweet to me.

Trying to choose a positive thought at this very moment.

Or, a thought-provoking inquiry....

Light Bulb above head: I recall in my days of University, I had studied an initiative for the New York subway system. In response to public perception that the subway was unsafe and causing low ridership, New York answered with an anti-graffiti project started in 1984. Hard work and major sparkle duty, the entire line was clean in 1989 and ridership had risen through and after the years of clean up. (http://www.dft.gov.uk/pgr/crime/reducinggraffiti/casestudyreportongraffiti?page=3).

Now, a beautiful and successful case study such as this would lead me to believe that the greater Los Angeles city would follow suit. You know, as we are embarking upon 2010 in one month, and we supposedly pave the way for a very 'green' lifestyle on the West coast, why not support it with a clean, fun, inspiring LA public transportation system that everyone is happy to ride?

I am now out for greatness for the LA Metro transportation system!

Thus, my Christmas Metro List:

In no particular order of preference....

1) Feel free to visit my previous blog regarding Metro's partnership with Yankee Candle Company for an aroma-friendly ride.

2) Get rid of the 80's fabric on the seats. I'll just take the good ol' plastic seats. Environmentally safe wet wipe swipe and we can all feel sanitary on those bad boys. We could even go with a School House Rock theme and make them all look like school chairs. Or 70's vinyl? It wipes down easily.

3) Can we get some inspiration on the advertisement space? Please? While riding my bus, I would prefer to read about goal setting, world peace, green initiatives in the greater LA region, health tips, a how-to-ride-the-bus guide, how I saved the Earth today, or maybe some jokes.

4) Credit Card machine at entrance. Or even just a transit card that you can put money on whenever you ride....with a credit card.

5) Music on the bus? I would even take some elevator music. Anything.

6) Holiday decorations. It is December 2, just throw some garland around the top. Maybe a wreath on the grill? Twinkle lights might be asking a lot, but I really see a change in ridership here with these great additives such as these.

7) We are in LA, let's put a red carpet down the middle of the aisle. Now that is some real fun!

8) A newspaper and magazine rack. That is wonderful.

9) Let's get some hand sanitizer at the entrance and exits. Totally feasible and health friendly!

10) New shock systems. I might have neck issues in a year. Not kidding. It is a bumpy ride!

11) Let's do a discount day! I would love to get on the bus for free one day. What a beautiful treat, thank you LA! Oh yes, I will definitely be back.

12) Transit TV. Put something uplifting on or get rid of it all together. Please. Throw me a Seinfeld episode or even an Everybody Loves Raymond. How about the news? People love the news. No wait, I want uplifting....a Friends episode?

13) Is there a Bus Driver Appreciation Day? No? Well, there should be. I'll work on that.

14) What about some mood lighting? In the evening, that florescent lighting makes me actually feel like I am in a bumpy, smelly, non-fun jail cell on wheels. Virgin America has purple lights in their plane. Definite cool points. How about even tinted white?

Alright, that is good for now. I am off to research my Santa Claus of the LA Metro. I will deliver these suggestions and find some answers! Do not worry friends of LA, we can all ride the fun bus together soon!

If you are reading this and you work for the LA Metro system, please forward on and have your people call my people. Or just me. I have no people. And make it via email. Thanks.

Out for greatness. For you. For me. Los Angeles. And all our public transportation systems.

You will see.

Nose Picking in Public? My New Hero!

2009-11-25T19:57:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: A bright blue winter cap atop my head, purple lululemon backpack lightly packed with a notebook, my daily planner, beef jerky, and my sustainable cups, gray comfy pants to accent the gray lululemon emblem on the one and only avocado green jacket with the amazing Elvis collar sit in the front of an afternoon bus today.

While I am exhausted from managing the busy pre-Black Friday shopping rush at the store, I sit on the bus in a wonderful mood thinking about my redeye plane this evening to my hometown in Houston, Texas. I am elated to see my incredible family, eat until the spandex in my pants really cannot stretch anymore, kiss my 12 year old sister's cheeks till she rolls her eyes over and over, share a legal alcoholic beverage with my beautiful 21 year old sister, and laugh until tears dance down my own cheeks with my crazy-in-love parents!

Thanksgiving. A beautiful holiday it will be.

With these dancing turkey legs, visions of sweet potatoes and oozing derby pies filling my thoughts, I am almost oblivious to my current bus surroundings. The man reading the newspaper in his sports coat and jeans in front of me, the older Asian woman in her ivory puffy jacket sitting next to me, yet as far to the edge of the seat and away from me as possible, and my bus driver who keeps yelling at the traffic by the 405 freeway (which is just very unpleasant and almost scary as his bus passenger). Then, all of the sudden I am rudely jolted from my holiday-dreaming when the aforementioned man with the sports coat literally start picking his nose.

Yep, full on pick.

It was definitely not a scratch. He was full insertion of finger in nose, digging for gold. I mean, what do I do? Turn away? I have nowhere to look, he is right in front of me. Look in disgust? Shudder? Well, I did all those. Of course, I chose that seat facing the front of the bus while the seats directly in front of me are facing the aisle. I could not have a more clear view of this sports-coat-guy and his disgusting display of nostril action. And he has to know that. Has he lost his peripheral vision? I am RIGHT HERE.

How do people do that? What if I would have literally seen something come out of his nose? Oh my God, I feel sick. I mean, I feel sick thinking that he might have touched the coin insert station or my seat! Where is the humanity in this place??

Then, I begin to wonder what it must feel like to not be embarrassed or worried about what other people might think. I mean, that sports-coat-guy did not care at all if I saw him mid-pick. He was going to town. In the long run, it didn't affect his life. I am the one obsessing about it here on the snob blog. Or snot blog, for today's notes.

How absolutely free-ing.

If you think about embarrassment and who you are in the life moments, it is so much ego. So much about trying to look good for some dude in a bar, your boss, or some random girl dressed in too many bright colors on an LA bus. That sports-coat-guy was in all actuality, very powerful. He just did not care. He had something bothering his nose and went for it. Took care of business, picked the newspaper back up off his lap, and took the LA TIMES crossword by storm. I become in awe of this man I had moments ago been ill from.

For the past couple of days, I have literally wanted to jump out of my seat and start singing holiday music down the aisles of the bus. I hold out as long as possible but always seem to break early November with the Christmas music. I know, so early. But so fun. On my bus karaoke, maybe I will rock out with a little NSYNC Christmas Song or Mariah Carey, All I Want for Christmas - I might even get my pelvis in it and bring out Elvis' version of White Christmas. But, I don't for so many reasons. What if people hate me? How embarrassing? What if people tell me to stop?

Or....

Or....

Or, how awesome! I might make their day and send them off in the spirit of the holidays with love and cheer. They might smile and laugh until tears dance down their cheeks. They might even sing with me. I see the wave starting, some clapping going on. The guy in back breaks out his guitar and some crazy starts playing the drums on the window....

Oh, I envy you sports-coat-guy and your ability to pick your nose in public. Not that I want to be disgusting and publicly display my own nose challenges. But, your powerful, fearless and ego-less attitude for life is one of inspiration and replication!

As I exit the bus, I nod and find myself thankful for my new hero. I commit to getting over myself, dropping the ego and being fearless, and one day soon, singing the Christmas songs down the aisle of the LA Metro!

Happy Holidays!

A Very Unique and Open Type of Love

2009-11-23T22:40:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: I am bright one on the 6:05pm rush bus number 720 back into Beverly Hills. Overstuffed purple lululemon backpack complements my lululemon navy hip pants with a flattering flare feature over my blue Asics, gray seamless tech top and HOT PINK ear warmers that match my HOT PINK arm warmers that propel my leap through the inviting double doors of the bus.

I rarely ride the bus in the evenings. However, with daylight savings and a new motivation to go to the lululemon run club, the fast approaching black sky and crescent moon catch up with me today. I head to the bus at 6:00pm in the dark and breezy air. I think to myself, prime time for the people leaving a long day's work and heading home. Should be an interesting ride.

I was right. The bus was packed. I had to stand by the exit door for the first couple of stops. A full house! Slower traffic stresses me out - I might actually miss this run club due to LA drama I wouldn't be too upset. Nonetheless, I distract myself with the sleepy passengers, crazy homeless guy in the back yelling, and the absolutely terrible TrasitTV blaring educational information, asking questions such as: What is the bone detached from any other bones in the human body? What does the German word stumphhose mean? And lastly, what is the World's largest seed? (Answers: Hyoid in the throat, tights, and the Coco de Mer, or a double coconut). Does anyone on the bus want to know that?

Anyways, I keep looking around. You know, for someone to inspire me. Shock me. Talk to me. Scare me, even.

Nothin'.

We make a third stop on my route and quite a few depart. I snag a seat right up front before the oncoming traffic of more sleepy passengers, homeless people, and obnoxious cell phone users pile in. I smile at an older man who sits in the next row of seats by me. My seat is actually one of those that faces the aisle versus the front of the bus. I see all the oncoming passengers and you know they see hot pink me. Now, my smile quickly fades as I notice that this man now perpendicular to me is BLOCKING anyone to sit by him in the open seat. He is sitting on the outside seat as to have two (2) seats for his ride. I say to myself, hey, this is not an airplane, dude! It is the LA Metro! I immediately shun him. Share brother!

As I avert my attention, more people continue to sluggishly gather on the bus. Another older gentleman enters the bus, much older than the seat-blocker next to me. He has that elderly lean where his body is permanently bending forwards. He is wearing the most amazing brown holiday zip-up jacket made of old school polyester and a tweed Beret atop his little head. He comes in for the seat next to me and begins the strategy of his seat-taking process: hand on rail, foot towards seat, 180 circle, about to fall in butt first....

I reach for his wrinkled and surprisingly very warm hand and guide him in to the seat next to me.

He gets comfortable with a couple squirming movements and looks over at me with these eyes, crystal clear blue on the outside and hazel towards the pupil. Against his tan skin, I bet this bent over man was quite the looker at my age. Before he can thank me, I tell him that I really love the retro jacket. I deem him "trendy and hip". He smiles and thanks me, telling me in a thick accent that he has had it for quite some time - probably long enough for it to be in style, out of style, and now back in style. Funny guy. He then tells me out of the blue, "I wish you health, wealth, beauty, happiness and all you desire in life. I do". So profound, yet random. So many great adjectives he just bestowed upon me. I am touched.

I move my pink ear warmers up and off my ears, lean down, way way down, to peek under his Beret and get on his level. I tell him thanks and wish him the very exact same in his life.

We proceed in conversation. He asks about my cultural descent, my degree in school, my current job situation, if I am a movie star, if I am happy? He reminds me how lucky I am to have a job and be making money, that I am a nice girl, and that if I become a movie star, he will be sure to see my movies.

I laughed a bit, especially at the movie star part. I did notice that in answering all his inquiring questions, I smiled the entire time. Mostly speaking to him my wonderful life and how I am very happy. Which, I am.

I find out his name is Enrique. He is from some country I definitely could not understand from his accent. Somewhere in the Middle East, South of Russia, I am going to guess he claimed Armenia. I had already asked him twice and was uncomfortable going for the third clarification, so I do the nod and smile thing. I notice that he also nods his head quite a bit, and I begin to wonder if he even understands me? While I literally have to lean down and in to hear anything he is saying, I figure the smiles can be our common language when we find these communication barriers.

After a few sentence exchanges, he came out again with, "I wish you health, wealth, life, movie star, and all that you desire".

This I understand and I thank him again and pull the bus string for my approaching exit. "Stop Requested" shouts the recorded bus woman's voice. I'm getting good now. Conversations, a night bus ride and my own stop requests, who would have ever thought? Not me!

And then again as my bus begins to slam on the brakes, same lines as before: "I wish you health, wealth, gorgeous, money, movie star, happiness...." I think he could have gone on and on with the mix of heartfelt adjectives and nouns, but I had to cut him off. I leaned over, hugged his very bony shoulders hiding under the trendsetter polyester jacket and air kissed while cheek to cheek a good bye. Wishing him a beautiful life, I jumped to the rear exit waving another good bye to all the onlookers who had silently joined our lovely conversation through not-so-secret observation.
As I hustle out and into the 90210 streets, I hear old man Enrique tell the other passengers, "She kissed me, she kissed me!".

I smile. Amazing.

I do not know what the deal is as of late, but these old gentlemen of Los Angeles are really throwing me for a loop these days. Enrique had kind eyes and three times wished upon me greatness. He also promised to support me if I ever was on the big screen and left me in the best of spirits for my evening jog.

And yes, I made it to my run club on time. Ran my hot pink heart out and decided that I am so happy with these chance encounters that really touch, move and inspire me. These old, dear and deep souls....showing and sharing a very unique and open type of love I have never seen, much less experienced before. Is it luck? Is it God? Is it just nothing?

No. No.

I realize that in my life now, I get on a bus, go for a walk, get a coffee, go for a run, go to work.... and I am actually out looking for that greatness. For that wonderful and amazing. For inspiring and heart-strings-pulling. And, I find it. In my life. Just because I am seeking them out. Demanding them to get on my crazy ride.

And lately, the amazing and inspiring, wonderful and empowering, breathtaking-right-when- you-don't-expect-it-beautiful-life in your face ... usually appears in the form of a gentleman between the ages of 74 and 82 on my bus.

On my life bus.

Cool.

What do you find on your life bus?

Are you even looking for them?

Men On Wheels, Part II

2009-11-22T17:11:00.000-08:00

Part II

So today on the bus...

visual: Same hot pink lululemon cozy fleece pullover, full length spandex pants, green and navy Nikes, purple backpack, bright ocean blue headband, disheveled Princess Leah buns after a long day at lululemon 90210, rocking out to my lime green iPod shuffle. I wait on Wilshire Blvd to head home.

I step up to the 720 bus, thank my younger and almost handsome bus driver (if he would isknay the black leather bus-driving gloves), ready to roll from Beverly Hills to my cozy apartment in Bretnwood to get my workout on. Not many on the bus to engage with, so I continue to rock to my iPod.

I smile the whole bus ride home. I had a really great day at work. Beautiful weather. The holidays are here. I'm just beaming. And on the weekends, there is less traffic so my bus is FLYING back to my neighborhood. I'll be there in no time. Sing on about Heaven, Brett Dennen, sing on!

Well, that was short lived. Still rocking to my headphones, I am startled when I see everyone departing. I don't know how I do it, but I seemed to have jumped on the bus that stopped short....again! GREAT! I have to walk the rest of the way home....again. My young bus driver is not so cute anymore! I force myself to stay in good spirits from my great day. I knew I had charged my iPod last night for a reason, so I could speed walk all the way home to Aretha Franklin, MGMT and John Mellencamp shuffling in my ears. I deemed it a warm up to my upcoming workout.

As I walked under the freeway and up the hills, I thought, "nope, there is something more". Why am I walking home as all my buses continue to fly past me? How did I really get on that bus that needs a break AGAIN? I was really appreciating the bus speeding on its way and now this?

And then, there he is.

I turn the corner outside the Veterans Center to a an all out old soldier gathering to protest for the land gated behind us. Sitting in his motorized wheelchair waving an American Flag is an World War II veteran, Stephen. I smile, stop next to him and remove my headphones. He takes my hand and asks my name, shaking the held hand profusely. He is covered in crumblies down the front of him - I am guessing from his recent lunch and/or snack, and he is modeling these amazing old-man-version of hip and cool aviators.

I engage in conversation with him. Asking about the protest and letting him have some of my beautiful time. He shared that they were fighting for the land to be a center for the Veterans and homeless in the city. He shared that he had fought in WWII, the politics in the administrative system over the land, and that they were getting close to winning the good fight. You know old people, they go on forever. Which I love.

Cars passing us were honking to help protest and he waved that American flag every time from his chair.

As our conversation began to end, he thanked me time and time again for stopping to talk to him. He then asked me for a hug. As if I could resist, I leaned down to his chair and wrapped my long, fleece covered arms around his older body and wheelchair holding him upright. Heart to heart.

Stephen asks me mid-hug, "Am I allowed?"

Not knowing what he meant or if he was just politely reinstating the hug permission, I say sure. His face turns and he kisses my cheek and gives me a squeeze. I smile and let go. Tap his shoulder, thank him and continue to walk home....enlightend again today.

See, I knew there was a reason that damn bus stopped short making me walk that extra mile. And I knew better! It wasn't for any cardio burn.

So Part II of my day is really a testament to Part I with dude Jared in his wheelchair begging not for my money, but for my time and friendly conversation. Putting into practice what I had learned that morning at my first bus stop, I gave that precious time and conversation to Stephen on the walk home when the bus stopped short. No judgement. No annoyance. No fear of begging or financial support for the cause. Just love.

And it was really, really beautiful.

Men on Wheels, Part I

2009-11-22T16:11:00.000-08:00

Part I

So today on the bus....

visual: Sustainable coffee mug in hand full to the brim with a seasonal favorite, peppermint mocha, larger than life pink plaid sunglasses, bright ocean blue headband, Princess Leah buns, hot pink lululemon cozy micro-fleece pullover I scored in Vancouver under my favorite purple backpack, atop full length lululemon pants with fancy snaps up the side and bright green and navy Nikes wait for the bus today. I am dressed for a winter wonderland, obviously.

I stayed up way too late last night and stumbled out of my cozy Brentwood apartment early this morning in just enough time to hit up Coffee Bean on the way to my bus stop. Moving slower than normal, I kick the Nikes in high gear and get to speed walking, wondering what the bus back in the good ol' U S of A will bring today.

As I cross the street to my normal bus spot in front of the convenient 711, there are a couple people waiting at the bus stop. I always take that as a good sign. When no one is waiting there, I figure I just missed the bus. So, off to a good start and still on time.

I approach the bench and there is a character rolling around in his wheelchair circling the bus stop. He is a total dude with longer hair, tan skin and a bum leg wrapped up in what looked like an old, dirty turquoise sheet. He throws me that 'hang ten' sign that only true dudes can pull off and a head nod.

Now, don't let the 'dude' label throw you. He probably hadn't showered in like two (2) weeks and I immediately labeled him in the homeless category. They seem to congregate around the 711, I never know what that is about. 711 is not cheap, they charge for that convenience piece. With that being said, I immediately figure this dude is going to hit me up for some money. He says hello, I say hi and smile while looking further down the street for my bus.

He introduces himself as Jared. I respond and tell him it is nice to meet you. I do believe it is nice to meet people and know their name.

He then asks me to remove my sunglasses. I oblige and he proceeds to tell me I look like a Penelope. Weird. Engaging further, calling me Penelope, we talk about what's in a name. Like a modern day Romeo and Juliet...at the bus stop. What a name means and why some are popular. I explain to him that the Subway Jared has really stolen his thunder these days. However, I remind him that Jared Leto was a huge heart-throb years back. He smiles, agrees. He does that surfer dude hair flick, informing me my real name is ya know...okay. Ha ha, thanks.

My bus 720 arrives and I begin to walk towards the entrance bidding Jared a wave good bye. Thinking to myself, here comes the money request - he glances back up at me from his wheelchair, smiles, and reminds me to have a really beautiful day and rolls the opposite direction.

SLAP! Right across my snobby face. He was just wanting a smile and great conversation. And the whole time I am thinking he was going to ask for my beloved quarters. I scoff at myself on the bus and shake my head in disappointment.

Its like the good side and the snobby side of me play Hide & Seek. Some times, the good side is hiding in the best hiding spot ever, where my snobby side just cannot find her. And other times, my good side prevails and I am this possibility of love and world change. Hugging strangers, saving the world while running and smiling, or spreading holiday cheer.

Jared did teach me a radical and old lesson today. And do note: I did treat him nicely. We laughed and shared a great conversation. I was friendly. Its that inner voice of fear and annoyance if he was going to beg me for money that bugs me the most. Who I was being while we were conversing? Judging a book by its cover. I could have been present to the fact that he is a human being. Sharing his life. Really, only begging for time. For those three (3) minutes I had to spare. And in the three minute conversation, he won me over. Changed my life view. And ultimately inspired me to greatness today.

Thanks dude Jared.

Who have you misjudged today? Who did you not talk to because they could potentially appear to be something they are NOT even close to at all? Let a dude rock your world today.

Be love to everyone....today.

Snob on a Bus in Vancouver, eh?

2009-11-22T00:32:00.001-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: Rockin' my denim lululmeon leggings that have that amazing moisture wicking and suck-you-in power, tucked into my dark brown water-logged UGG boots with the pockets on the side, bright green lululemon jacket (again) with a seemingly tie-dye appeal via sideways rain, salmon colored scarf protecting my neck from a chill, glittering gold headband spreading holiday cheer atop my head, three (3) maps of the city emerging from my cranberry colored wallet, grey mittens with a pink heart button, ALL underneath a navy blue Four Seasons Hotel umbrella waiting today on Howe St in Vancouver, CANADA.

That's correct everyone. SnobOnaBus.com just went INTERNATIONAL. Big things over here.

So, now that you have the visual of me, let me paint you a little picture of Vancouver, Canada. For those that have never traveled there, read on and take notes so you know what to pack and what was evidently missing from my over-packed, over-sized, charge-me-extra-Alaska-Airlines-suitcase. It rains in Canada. A LOT. And just when you think it might stop, it starts again. And the sun never came out once. Pack an umbrella. Pack rain boots. Pack everything you own that might be waterproof. No, no - not moisture wicking. Water proof. Learn it. Live it. Love it. I promise.

Okay, enough about the rain. We all know I reside in Los Angeles where you can wear tank tops in November, sunbathe in January, and never think twice about an umbrella. I could literally wear flip flops for the rest of my life.

So, here I am at the bus stop. High of 44 degrees. Having to have layered just about everything I packed. So not only am I wet, but I'm chunky from all the layers. Yes, soggy, chunky and snobby waiting at the bus stop. Thank goodness for my glittering headband or I might have forgotten about my holiday cheer intention. "Have no fear, spread love and holiday cheer!" A nice portly man is waiting at the bus. I ask him cheerfully where he is going and which bus he is taking? He claims some crazy number and then asks where I am from and then all that is LA and its stereotypes and famous people. Same questions the whole trip...Thus, I jump on the first bus to pull over. Lucky number 7.

Here I go. Giving it the once over. The up and down glance that girls give other girls at parties. Oh ya, you know what I'm talking about. Sizing up this massive motorized public transportation system. I step on. $2.50!?! A bit steep, eh? I insert my coins, thank my Canadian driver and enter a cleaner, more spacious, less heinous fabric seats, wet version of my bus system. The TransLink is what it is called. I sit in front to observe and find a seat that is actually facing the back of the bus. So I am staring at all these Canadians and riding backwards like a roller coaster. Kind of a lot pressure. Spotlight up here. I secretly enjoy it. Damn, why doesn't LA have this? Pshhh, everyone would want this seat, duh! Point TransLink Canada.

I get up and ask my driver, "So, where does this bus go?" He looks at me strangely and responds, "Umm, 4th Street". I have no idea where that is. It is not on any of the three (3) maps the concierge desk gave me. A silent panic, I nod and respond, "Cool!".

I step back and take my backwards facing seat and continue to look around. It is a lot cleaner. Fewer people are riding this number 7. Canada chose blue as their choice of color for the seats, I don't mind that. Nicer than our 80's design seats. Surprisingly doesn't smell, even though rain can have that effect. There are hanging handles for people who stand. Safety. Smart. The middle aisle is actually larger. So one side has a one seat-er, leaving more space for people to stand. I ponder this.... I came to the conclusion that all these WET riders do not wants to sit down next to one another with their layers, rain coats, umbrellas - all that is Canada living. Which by the way, no where to put my wet umbrella. I just had to hold it. Point LA Metro.

Well, after a couple stops I begin to freak out. Where will I end up? What if there is no bus to get me back to my hotel, my over-packed luggage, my flight.... So, I decide I will just exit and trek it back. In the sideways rain. With my non-rain gear. Get real with Canada. Done.

After a mile or so, I stand up with a couple other riders and jump off back into the rain. Breathe it in. I mean, I guess I never deal with rain, so for this half a second I can enjoy it. A nice man rocking a beret interrupts my rain dance. "Did you need help finding where to go?"

I smile and look him deep in those Canadian blue eyes and thank him for his generosity and inform him that I am just exploring and rain dancing. He tips his beret, smiles and moves on. I am momentarily flabbergasted. How wonderful of him to check on me after he saw me conversing with the bus driver about the heck this bus number 7 ends up. Nice people up there! Point Canada!

So, I rode the bus in Canada. I ventured out and danced in the rain when I could have snuggled deeper into my feather-amazing bed at the Four Seasons. I met nice people and have new ideas to send to the LA Bus line about space, safety, and fabric colors. I got the chance to explore the city in a way I never have before. On a bus. In the rain. Like a local!

So, do one thing a day that scares you. Hell, I was scared on that bus. I was soggy in the rain. I always, always, always get lost and I look like a wet dog in a downpour! Where was that 4th Street? Who knew? I didn't! But, I took the adventure. I met nice people and me and my glittering headband spread that holiday cheer!

Have no fear and spread that cheer. CHECK!

What is your adventure today?

Scent-ual Healing for the LA Bus System

2009-11-17T23:25:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: Pink plaid sunglasses protect my snobby brown eyes from the bright LA sunshine warming our Cali November close to 80 degrees! Thus, lululemon neon orange racerback tank, herringbone brown pants, bright purple backpack and royal blue Havaianas sandals showcasing my shiny, glittering pedicured toes, step onto the Metro 720.

I recall my days as a novice bus rider on my first exciting bus adventures. I had wondered if I could consume food, talk on my cell phone, or even bring a beverage on the bus. Well, these riding regulars have taught me the ways...so I must ask:

Why?

Why?

Why does the bus ALWAYS smell like McDonalds?

Why?

I mean, 7.2 out of 10 times that I ride the bus I am hit by the likes of a semi truck, a semi truck full to the brim with McD's french fries, chicken nuggets and $1 cheeseburgers. It is like Las Vegas rumor that they pump out oxygen in to the casinos. I am beginning to think Ol' Man McDonald has some marketing deal with the LA Bus system with his own french fry perfume. Trying to get all of us environmentally friendly and quarter dropping bus riders ordering from that convenient dollar menu.

Oh no, you're not getting any of this girl's quarters!

So today on the bus, I sit down in the elevated seats right before the bus connects with that scary accordion piece to the caboose section. Sidenote: the best part of these seats is that if you are a bit shorter or sit all the way back - your feet might hang & dangle. There is nothing like a high enough seat where your feet get to hang & dangle. Now, I prefer this seat to be at a sweet bar sipping a lychee martini across from a handsome suitor, or atop a local favorite hike, Runyon Canyon overlooking the greater Los Angeles skyline. But hey, we take what we get, right?

Anyways, across from me on his elevated seat is an interesting character. He is chatting with himself and staring off into some odd space. More like a dazed and confused sort of stare. But of course, crinkled tight right next to him -McDonalds bag! I wonder if he has convinced himself that the tight crinkle-action at the top of the thin, grease-soaked paper bag is actually going to hold in the intrusive smell. Does he even care? Does he think about my nostrils? My bus-riding enjoyment? NO! Oh man, I feel like the smell of those golden, greasy french fries infiltrating my bright neon top!

So then, I distract myself and get to thinking, what smell would I actually like to smell on the bus? What would make my bus-riding experience top notch? And there it is, I am BRILLIANT....

I think that the LA Metro Bus System should partner with the people at Yankee Candle Company! They have every scent possible. Fresh laundry smell, Man Cologne smell, Holiday smell, Ocean Breeze smell....the list goes on and on. Here I am, sitting on the bus - gagging over this McDonalds odor, when I could be sniffing the likes of Coconut Rain, Pumpkin Pie, or perhaps a Fall Festival...on a public bus! Now, I do know that the candle scents can be somewhat powerful. No problem - we pick a mix of neutral scents and form a 'BUS Collection' label. I am talking something lite - mix a bit of Lavender or Lemon Grass. Maybe a little Balsam Fir for the Holidays. Perhaps the RUSH bus could have a different scent from the slower buses. The possibilities are endless! ANYTHING but McDonalds, feet and the 80's fabric smell. Oh, I cannot even imagine if it actually rained in Los Angeles - I know this bus would NOT smell like Coconut Rain and that is for sure.

Tag line: Yankee Candle Company Bus Scent Collection..public transportation with scent-ual appeal. The radio jingle could be a play off Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing", yet sing "Scent-ual Healing". The commercial could star me stepping up from the sidewalk bus stop by the 711 and Baskin Robbins to a Coconut Rain Paradise with elevated seats and unscented McDonald's bags.

I could go on....

Last note, I think the bus should consider the Vegas idea of the Oxygen injector. I mean, the amount of people that sleep on the bus is incredible! Don't they miss their stop? How does their neck bounce around like that? Why is their cheek smudged up against that dirty window like that? Different story, different blog.

All In a Day's Work

2009-11-15T12:59:00.001-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: Bright blue lululemon ultra shorts, a deep red-ish orange long sleeve shirt, my avocado green jacket (again), purple backpack packed to the brim, and my VANS slip-on sneakers (that have really seen better days) walked on to the bus today. I was a plethora of color and almost a bit chilly as Fall is finally approaching LA.

I would like to note, I have made it a habit to thank my bus driver EVERY time I step on the bus. Whether I get on with a smile and say thank you for taking my $1.25 in quarters, ask them how their day is going, or literally thanking them for driving me and my bus friends safely to our destination - I do it. I acknowledge that this very bus driver for the 17 minute (give or take) ride, has my life in his/her strong, cat-like maneuvering-through-traffic, trusted and experienced hands.

And then I find my seat. And there, I think....

It was all about me today on the ride home from work. No conversation with my fellow riders, no judging, no analyzing...just me. I thought about the course of my day and who I had been all day as a moving citizen. And I mean, literally moving. I had run today, so I was a runner. That run had taken me to my bike, so I was a biker today. I got a ride to work today, thus making me a passenger in shotgun and a carpool-er. And now, I am on the bus. Look at me. Movin' and groovin' around LA in any and almost every way possible.

Its interesting thinking about all the different life characters we get to portray in our own special and crazy way....

As a runner, you own your part of the road. Of course, most of my run was in a bike lane on a larger, run-friendly path we call San Vicente Blvd. This awesome street takes you straight from my hood down to the beautiful beach! Best part, its all DOWN HILL baby! The cars rush past me, bikers tell me to scoot over, and walkers...I mean, if I am running, scoot over walkers! Some walkers just take up the whole sidewalk - I am like, really? Nonetheless, this is who you are. A friendly runner dealing with all that is on your road. I say friendly because I do say "hi" to everyone that runs by. Just me, my Asics, wicking lululemon outfit, ipod amazing playlist, and the people I get to greet on my pavement.

As a biker, you have a littler more pull. You are on two (2) wheels and moving at a faster pace. The cars allow you some respect. Hell, I would - they are just pushing a pedal up this damn hill, I am up on my feet rockin' this uphill resistance with no gears, sweating the whole way, and keeping up with traffic. They better make some room! And, I'm not using gas. Sweating and saving the Earth - all in a day's work really.

Later that day, as a carpool-er, its a three-fold of being really. You are riding shotgun, thus saving energy. You are sharing conversation with someone, thus having fun. And, you really do get there just a bit faster. So I have the save, the share and the speed with me. Keep in mind though, this allows the person you are riding with an active part in this character you are playing. I mean, I rode with a friend to work and we were just battling. Don't get me wrong, I am thankful for the ride and for him. But yes, I had to deal with a little negativity, some horseplay and then, finally, a great conversation. So now, I am getting to work faster, saving gas, and turning a negative energy in someone to a positive. I really do think I am a freaking X-Men character.

Last but not least, my snob on a bus time. I first give thanks to the driver, then I sit and I just get to think. I don't have to converse with anyone, if I don't want to. I can converse with anyone, if I do want to (well, and if they want to). I can have a conversation with ME about how ugly and so OUTDATED the fabric on the seats of these buses are - in my head or outloud really. People talk to themselves on the bus ALL THE TIME. I can sleep. I can take care of an email or seven (7) on the Blackberry. I mean, the possibilities are really endless as a snob on an LA bus!

So how do I connect this to life? I mean, I saved the world today if you think about it. Really, I did. And that is who I got to be, a freaking X-Men, fast-moving, environmentally friendly and people friendly world-saver! When taking on these different life characters, you get to OWN it. And own it I did! Mine all have to do with movement, but its all the same. So to recap my 'owning of life':
* as a runner, I party on the pavement with my ipod and a smile. Maybe a wave, maybe not.
* as a biker, I might inspire GREEN living in others and sweat in the race with gas-guzzling traffic.
* as a carpool-er, I get to save gas and change a negative to a positive attitude while getting to work quicker!
* as a bus rider, I get to think about ALL THIS, talk to myself, and share it with you!

So here we are, riding along in life. As a runner, teacher, swimmer, trash man, trapeze artist, dancer, lover, doctor, senior citizen, bus rider....whatever you are... for 17 minutes, for today, for the year, for life... how will you save your world, thus the world, while doing it?

Start Walkin' UGG Boots

2009-11-11T19:27:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: Slept in late today and ended up wearing a rather mismatched outfit. Of course, the lululemon pants, UGG boots and the best part, my lite blue family hoodie that we all wore for my Grandparents' 50th Anniversary Cruise. It zips up and my name in BOLD letters with the word, granddaughter typed underneath. Oh ya, move over for this granddaughter snob.

It was a cooler day in Beverly Hills today and I was so happy to be stomping around in my UGG boots and a liteweight jacket. Two of my buses arrive at my stop, so I choose the last one, as it seems to have a shorter line. I jump on the bus, ready to get home a little earlier than usual. Thank my bus driver for picking me up and head to the back.

The bus driver is a larger and loud woman. Her voice carries. Yelling something to an older man about the last stop or Westwood or something, I just brush it off, thinking she must have just been talking to that guy about his route. I ask questions about my stops all the time.

I find my seat and as the bus was not too heavy, I handle a business call while riding. Nobody gives me the evil eye, so I continue conversing, strategizing and planning a new blog venture. Man, the bus is loud though. And for some reason, it sounded like we were going through a NASCAR race track tunnel. Oh, well that is because my crazy driver decided to race past another bus.

Scared. For. My. Life.

Came out alive though. Ended the call, as I couldn't hear anything in our race tunnel and contemplate a quick cat nap before I go work out today. Sounds lovely!

Then, all of a sudden, my bus stop at its regular Westwood stop. Near UCLA and the Wilshire Corridor. Good location, makes sense. But the bus driver is yelling "LAST STOP". I'm like, no, no that cannot be right. That must be for that guy she was talking to. Nice of her to tailor this route for him.

"LAST STOP!!!".

"THIS WILL BE THE LAST STOP!".

I look around to my bus-riding friends who are still seated and just as shocked as I am. What is she talking about? I scurry off the bus, as she is still yelling and demanding our exit. I really was almost scared of her.

So, I stumble off into Westwood and realize the trek I shall make home. It is only a little over a mile, no big deal. My bus pulls across the street to a resting stop. I guess my bus driver needed her break, perhaps a little cat nap for her tired eyes....my cat nap!

I walk. My feet are literally sweating in my tall UGG boots. Not such a great idea now. Oh no, now the shins are sweating! I WOULD choose the bus that needed a break. I would!

Bus 720. You have always been so great to me. And, now this?

Zooming past me, as I hoof along, are more of my bus 720's - I see thier drivers didn't NEED their break. I swear, four of them just went past me. But I am not about to pay ANOTHER $1.25 to go one mile. I won't do it! And damn, what is with ALL the litter on the sidewalks? Do we need more trash cans around here??

I finally let go of the bus that stopped short. In the duration of my walk, I ponder the life lesson here. What is it? Some times people just need a nap? Next time, listen when she is yelling about a last stop? Can you really be upset about a 1 mile walk??

Actually, I think it is something about an alternative route. Some times in life, the bus driver stops and doesn't take you all the way home. You have to walk, or ride your bike, or pay for another bus or call for help from a friend that lives nearby. We don't always get exactly where we need to be. But if you want to get home, you will figure out a way. It is who you get to be and where you choose to end up!

So, choose to curse and sulk at life, or come on boots, start walkin'!

Ride With Me

2009-11-10T21:57:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: Awaiting the bus with the last bit of change from my fanny pack equaling exactly one dollar and twenty five cents, I am feeling good. With my purple backpack weighted down by one sustainable lululemon water bottle in the left side pocket, evenly balanced with my sustainable lululemon tea carrier in the right side pocket, I feel so very green and purposeful...

For the first time, I am taking the bus EAST of Beverly Hills and into a part of town I have yet to travel on the public transportation system of Los Angeles. I wait with my fellow bus riders for the RUSH bus 720 to take us deeper downtown. There is still something about the night riding that irks me a bit, but I shake it off.

I hop on the bus and flash the bus driver a smile and nod. After all, I am whitening my teeth this week, someone should see those pearly whites.

I get on the packed bus and it is standing room ONLY tonight folks. I squirm through the passengers that I guess have a desire to stay near the front - as the back of the bus has PLENTY of standing room. Squirm, squirm I go. I find a space near the exit and hold on tight to the pole. Visions of H1N1 scatter within my head viewing hand-on-pole, ehh I shake it off, too. Literally, right off that pole and lean for balance.

There are some British people riding the bus. A younger crew sharing stories and favorite movies. Laughing and just enjoying their ride. I lean back a bit - as to almost inject myself into conversation with this fun crew.

"Oh yes, I enjoyed the movie, Hangover too. Hilarious! Yes, I had to watch it a couple times to catch all the parts...". "Oh, I too am a Larry David fan, I just love Seinfeld....". "Yes, yes the weather here was insane today! That's LA for you!". "We Americans are pretty crazy...ha ha".

Well, that was the conversation I had with them in MY head. They were pretty enthralled with one another. I sighed as they left the bus together. The four of them rushing to whatever life adventure they had to get to.

How fun to ride the bus with friends. I could stare at the bus doors EVERY day and probably never see a friend of mine jump on. Unless that old man with those massive eyebrows got back on, my heart might sink. Anyways, how great would that be? Like when you are grocery shopping and run into an old friend and you talk over lettuce. Or running into someone at a bar and sharing a cold pint. Nope, not on my ride. Not on this bus!

More people should go green. Ride buses with one another. Takes the stress off driving. Take a load off. You can share a seat and a conversation with one another you might never have had if you were paying attention to the road or talking via cellular phone device. You can both have coffee and look at one another whilst still getting somewhere, location-wise and relationship-wise.

What a cheap date idea! I am taking a dude on a date with this snob on a bus on my favorite route. We are going to sit there and chat while getting to some amazing life adventure spot of our own. How is that for a date idea! Or a new reality TV show! Oh they have that one, the NEXT bus. Bummer.

Regardless, who's riding with me tomorrow???

Tangled Mess of Social Constructions

2009-11-09T23:56:00.000-08:00

So today waiting for the bus...

visual: Navy blue low waist lululemon pants that flare just right to fit over my green sneakers that somehow perfectly match my avocado green jacket that I seem to wear every day and now cannot imagine my life without it, purple backpack, and blackberry up to my ear, I wait for the bus in the late part of the evening.

So I wait for the bus and am feeling super snobby tonite. I choose to be on my Blackberry device - maybe to disguise that I am actually waiting to take the bus home from a long day at work. "That girl wearing lululemon on her Blackberry...no, she is not getting on that bus". Of course, every number I dial, no one answers. So, I just keep leaving messages. Feeling lame.

I am circling the bus stop like those vultures you see in desert documentaries on Animal Planet. Choosing NOT to sit on the bus bench and ducking around, hiding in my Elvis-like collar of my amazing green jacket. I wait on Wilshire and Beverly, a playground of my old life when I used to work in the entertainment agency world. What if I run into someone? Will they judge me? Will they offer me a ride home? Will they see me and not say anything because they feel awkward?

These are the questions that went through my head as I scrolled through different numbers to continue to dial...

I paused. Smiled.

I took a seat on that damn bench at the bus stop. I embraced it. I let go of all the stories I had just made up. What I looked liked waiting at the bus stop. What it meant to be on the LA Metro. What my small cellular contraption might distract my audience from....

All crap.

I am waiting for the bus. I need a ride home and this is how I will get home. Who cares what other people think? Why do I care what I am riding? How can I attach all this nonsense to a motorized vehicle and my seat on it? All this meaning around social status.....

I shudder at how shallow I had just been. I reach for my five quarters and jump on my bus. With pride, I drop those quarters in, greet my driver with gratitude, and sit down with a new sense of meaning.

It is so easy to get caught up in the tangled mess of social constructions around us. We let them create our reality. I had felt so bad for myself. Had just gone and thrown a huge pity party for poor me waiting at the bus stop. Think of those five minutes of my beautiful life I lost feeling sad for myself, in which those five minutes I could have been putting toward something great. Such as, how I make a difference in the world? How tomorrow morning I am going to use my sustainable lululemon travelers coffee cup and GO GREEN? Or, who I was lucky enough to encounter, converse with and inspire today at work?

Choose to see that you are part of something beautiful.

It took me a couple minutes, but I got there.

Storytelling on the LA Metro

2009-11-08T21:10:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: Waiting for my 720 RUSH bus, I stare over the back of the bus bench longingly at the 711 wishing they carried Barq's Root Beer in their fountain machine. I chat with my dad via Blackberry while sporting my weeks-worn-in UGG boots with the snap pockets on the sides, indigo blue lululemon shorts (made for running - not bus riding), and a lime green jacket. No sunglasses today, as I cannot find them and I guess, cannot hide today.

So, I wait for the bus today for work, curious as to who I will meet today. I give my audience a once over; skinny, homely girl does not make eye contact, lanky bearded man with dark shades and leather jacket has that scary appeal, and short dude leaning up against the pole with his over-gelled hair seems too cool for school.

The bus arrives right on time. I jump on and take a seat in the front seats. They are wide open and invite me in. Lo and behold, bearded man with leather jacket sits right across from me. He is seriously wearing eight layers - as if we are in the middle of winter....in a snow storm....in New York. Scarf and all, carrying his drumsticks.

So, he engages in conversation with me in a half Pirate half English accent. Asking me how I am and where I was going? Sharing where he has been and asking for direction to the Greyhound Station in Union Square. In my head I am thinking, this guy really thinks he is in New York! So I get out the Blackberry and check out the Greyhound station via Google. I offer my new friend directions and hoping that is all he needs.

Well, it definitely was not all he needed. And little did I know, I was sitting across from a young and soon-to-be rich genius. This gentleman told me that he had become a doctor at the young age of 24 and had gone to teach as a professor at Berkeley. "The name's Dr. Ryan, he said". Nice to meet you. He continues, he left teaching a couple years later to pursue his real passions in the fine arts, showcasing his aforementioned drumsticks. He confides in me, leaning a bit closer off the seat, that he had played with the likes of 'Blood, Sweat and Tears', Sting, and Mick Jagger. Nodding and reminicing within this story, he claims he has a bundle of money coming in from overseas.

I, well, I am flabbergasted. I feel as if he is awaiting that starstruck reaction. I try to muster up the wide-eyed attention he deserved, but I was so distracted by the missing teeth on his bottom row and the grey pants that were nearing the color of charcoal due to lack of laundry visits.

Playing along, I shared how amazing it was that he followed his passions and dreams for the fine arts and really made a career for himself. He had really made it. He smiled and agreed in that weird Pirate Brit accent.

Approaching my stop, I thought about the story I had just heard. That is this man, Dr. Ryan's reality. But that is who he thought he was. On the LA bus, in dirty clothing - he was Mick Jagger's drummer and was once a professor at Berkeley.

I depart and give the man a good bye, "Good luck Doc!".

In all reality, he was just like me....and you. Telling his story while I live mine. I ride the bus because I go green to better our earth, and because times got tough and a car payment wasn't in the cards....errr or bank statement. I am going to change the world. And, I am a possibility of love for everyone in any capacity, whether they need directions to Union Square in Los Angeles, goal setting to creat a future, someone to just listen, or a necessary hug.

And, that's who I am. That is my story.

So, go ahead bus riders of Los Angeles. Tell me a story today....

Hold My Hand

2009-11-05T22:54:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus...

visual: Starbucks in one hand, holding up my navy blue beach cruiser in the other, I wait. Bright avocado green lululemon jacket, running shoes, hot pink head band, plaid sunnies...ready to take on this day.

So, I am waiting for the bus today and this cute older woman is waiting next to me. Not super old, but middle age old. Wearing larger glasses and a cute newspaper delivery boy looking hat. Her hands begin to flail around in the air, and all of a sudden, a similar aged man appears scooting across the street to stand by her side. They wait together. Next to me and my bike.

704 RUSH Bus...here it comes truckin' along. The older couple jumps on. Per usual, I begin to sweat a little bit thinking about this bike-on-a-bus thing, but I go ahead and throw that beach cruiser on the front, like a freaking METRO genius. I jump on the bus with a little swagger in my step and find my seat near the front. The bus driver is hitting on everyone that steps up to his bus, but that is a whole different story. He even picked up some plaid shirted woman not even at a bus stop, now I know she didn't wave and I know that is against the rules.

Anyways...

So, I am sitting there riding along, minding my own business. Nothing too interesting. I'm in the front of the bus, so I cannot really see anything back in the back. I blackberry a little bit. We stop and go due to Beverly Hills traffic. A cute young girl with a half braided head of hair and half fro steps on hand-in-hand with her caretaker. I offer up my seat, as the bus is getting pretty full.

Denied.

I get up and move to the seat on the other side of the bus, just in case. Of course, the caretaker takes the seat and continues to work on the little girls' hair. I smile because I knew she needed my seat and I had recognized that and took action. Yes, I am celebrating that.

So now, sitting next to me is that cute older couple that I had mentioned previously at the bus stop. I knew I had loved them from the minute I saw that old man scurry to his little lady. What I had not noticed at the beginning of my ride in my first seat was that these two were holding hands. Had been the entire time. I smiled.

There I am sweating on the LA Metro. I have the flirty to a point of annoying bus driver in the front, some scary obese man in the middle area flicking off homeless people as we pass by - literally jamming his middle finger against the window and saying some craziness, and then right next to me, my amazing hand-holding couple.

Realizing that I would have not even had the chance to notice the beauty of these two wonderful people holding hands, sharing love, and just being love....had I not taken a job that I was passionate for, had I not turned in my car lease and bought a bike, had I not turned to the bus as a mode of transporation, and had I not given up my seat on that bus for the caretaker with the half-fro'd youngster - I breathe a sigh of gratitude.

Life's funny that way.

Sharing is Caring

2009-11-04T16:49:00.000-08:00

So today on the bus....

visual: me at the bus stop, rockin' all organic cotton lululemon today in my charcoal hip pants and new black 'bat wing tee' that I thought would sell out in minutes and convinced myself I had to own. A little flare with the hot pink braided belt low on the hips, bright purple nostalgic backpack and those 70's massive grandma sunglasses I love to sport. There I am, ready to ride.

It was a big day for this snob on a bus. I took the bus 3 (three) times today. Three! You read that right. I had places to go, and my wheels were the LA Metro.

So, I took my first bus today, the number 2. I did learn that the RUSH buses are actually much faster. The 2 stops at about every other block. No joke, I felt like I was learning to drive a stick again for the first time with all the stop and go, stop and go. And, I don't know if it was the hour I was riding or what, but man, there were a lot of late aged people riding the bus with me today! Thus making each and every stop that much longer, as they set their walker aside, or grab the railing for support, or mosey on up to the opening doors from the corner.... I appreciate them riding the bus, because Lord knows they have no reaction time and should NOT be driving moving that slow. They were friendly passengers, however. One woman just grabbed my hand and had me help her off the bus, no problem. Short, blue eyes, white hair, crunched over - thanked me and mumbled something I couldn't understand and was on her merry and very slow way. Bold those older bus riders, bold I tell you.

As for my second ride, what is the deal with people sitting on the outside seat? I am standing right here, MOVE OVER by the window. Your purse does NOT need that seat. I am a clean, law-abiding, and rather lively and almost lovely citizen. Scoot over and let's enjoy a conversation or at least take a load off, together. Fine, whatever, I'll just go sit in the back.

Nope. I will never sit in the back of the bus, again. Never. So, because of all these sit-on-the-outside-seat-so-no-one-can-sit-beside-you-people, I take a little jaunt to the back of the bus and sit between 2 gentleman, one rather small man and another jamming to his ipod. After a couple stops, all of the back-of-the-bus passengers move on and new friends fill in. One is talking to himself, oh man that was kind of awkward. Do I listen? Make eye contact? Where is my damn ipod? And, some sleepy passengers snuggle in.

Well, here is the kicker, I am sandwiched in the middle of these 2 men, right? And, of course, to my left is the talker, talking to him and himself alone. So, at one point in my trip, the smaller guy sitting next me proceeds to vacate his seat and sit near the crazy talker guy and not me! I mean, they had a seat between them and he got a window... But still, what?!?! Again, with people not wanting to sit next to one another? Don't we all just want love in the long run? Except you crazy talker, I can't go there.

My last ride was uneventful. I almost feel odd when nothing crazy happens on the LA public transportation system. Almost let down, I could say. It is like I am settling comfortably into the dirty seats, the finger-smudged windows and grumpy bus drivers. Weird. Give me something to write about....

Long bus rides short, SCOOT OVER people. Let's have a conversation and get real today. Let me in, or at least let me sit down next to you. Sharing is caring.

IdiotNOTonaBus.com

2009-11-01T22:40:00.000-08:00

So today NOT on the bus....

visual: me leaning over my navy blue bike, waiting for bus number 4. So exhausted, just rocking the brightest of blue lululemon pants, neon pink headband, sweat soaked face and a lingering headache from the previous evening's events. I wait...

So, I am waiting for the bus today late in the evening. I rarely ride the bus at night, so it seems to feel a bit different. I creep myself out and deem everyone waiting with me crazy, killers, or foreigners that are talking bad about me in their foreign language. So I am waiting, as instructed by metro.net trip planner, on the SOUTHEAST side of the intersection. Waiting, waiting....

I roll a couple circles around my bus stop checking out the signage - I really do not know how to read them. However, I did notice that my stop had the large number 1 and 9....but no 4. That's odd. But the trip planner has never steered my wrong before, so I wait a bit more.

Waiting... Waiting....

Well this is insane, I am on 2 wheels. I should just ride home. I am not that far, hell I just ran all the way down here.

Then, I look forward, and literally 6 paces away is ANOTHER bus stop. What?!? I have been at the wrong stop the whole time. Great! This blog should be called idiotonabus.com. or really, idiotNOTonabus.com.... And, why put the bus stops so close to one another bus-stop-planner? It could be confusing!

So, I switch my stop. Roll over there. I see a large number 4 posted along with a couple other numbers. I guess those signs do hold some value. Take note for future. Who knows if I even missed it already. And there are other bikers at this stop. I mean, there are only 2 spot for bikes on the front of the bus. Is this a line thing - do they go before me and I have to wait even longer?

Well, I give the bus 3 minutes and then I am just going to pedal my tired bum home - no bike light and no energy. Real smart idea. So I am waiting....

Hallelujah! Here it comes. Bus number 4. Me and this dude beside me get ready with our bikes. I guess the other bikers are waiting for a different line. Phew! So I am there, ready to pull the rack down and get on this big blue bus.

I am not even kidding, the bus flew right past me. I was so focused on the bike rack and my stop-mate with the bike beside me - I didn't WAVE them down. I had figured maybe my guy beside me would do it, but he is getting on the bus pulling up behind and actually stopping. I mean, maybe I thought that the damn bus would just stop ....we are at a BUS STOP!

Needless to say, I did not ride the bus today. I said to myself, you do not even deserve to be on the bus. You know the rules by now, you know to wave them down. I have no one to blame but myself, well - and my bike.

So for my punishment, I made myself bike home on the sidewalks. That's right. Exhausted and out of steam having to yell out LEFT or RIGHT whenever I come up behind the happy couple walking to their car or cute motorized scooter. I almost gave this one girl a heart attack. I hate the "Biker on your LEFT" shoutout...I just hate it!

What did I learn today? Read the signs. And for the love of God, WAVE!

Eyebrows to His Cheek Bones

2009-10-28T22:35:00.000-07:00

So today on the bus...

visual: chiller weather allowed for the emergence of my new, amazing dark brown UGG boots with the pockets on the side and zipper up the other side! An impulse purchase allowed for the emergence of my purple lululemon backpack that for some odd reason makes me feel younger and back in school. Pink, plaid over-sized sunglasses and the blackberry in hand...I await for bus 720.

I had a great attitude getting on the bus today. My bus driver was chuckling and friendly, there were available seats and damn, I was in a great mood. I had decided that morning it was going to be an amazing day. I take towards the middle of the bus. That piece that connects the front to the back - almost like you are sitting in the middle of the musical instrument, the accordion. Oh you are not familiar? Well, there is no stability, some circle is drawn underneath your feet that actually moves in crazy circles, and if the bus literally cracks in half, I am a goner. I live on the edge with that seat.

So, I sit there. Alone. All 4 seats are empty. Obviously, no one wants to die on the LA Metro Bus. Still in good mood.

A couple more stops and here come some characters. A couple gentlemen sit in the higher seats in front of me. They are hilarious. One of them is all smiles and talking on the phone with his son about his dinner that evening, "tacos? I love tacos! Tomatoes still good? or what about dem French Fries?"...I was all ears with that one.

Then comes this cute little 4 year old boy in overalls who treats the bus like a rollercoaster. He is just adorable. Bumping around and giggling. My heart broke when his mother almost passed out due to whatever concoction she had consumed before that day started. But the youngster was an absolute joy. It is so amazing that he can love the LA Metro Bus so much. I tried to envision it like a roller coaster for me...almost raised my arms. But, I couldn't get there like that little 4 year old could!

Lastly, slowly but surely, came my bus treat for the day. This elder gentleman scuffles on with a fedora tipped a little bit to the side, eyebrows literally grown out down to his sagging cheek bones, and an amazing herringbone jacket. He was dressed to kill. I wonder if he had some hot, elder woman dressing up for him for the earlybird senior rate dinner. I pretended he did. We shared smiles a couple times. My heart melted for this one. Had to be pushing 85 years old. Shorter, almost stocky. Not from the United States, just smiling at the young boy...as I was.

Finally, we exchanged a couple warm conversations. I could not understand a word he said, so I just smiled at first. Then, I removed my sunglasses and looked him straight in the eyes. I went for that authentic connection. Asking him how he was, telling him how lovely I thought he looked today...actually telling him he was dressed to kill. He blushed and returned conversation. He said he did not speak great English, which I reminded him - "we communicate just fine and as well as we can". He took my hand and I gave it a squeeze. He was so pleasant. I wanted to take him out for tea and crumpets!

We exchanged how the little boy was so cute, yet we felt so sad for him, as his caretaker was in the midst of some drug-induced unconsciousness. He then asked me if I had a husband and if I was going to Beverly Hills to go shopping. Hilarious you amazing old man, everything you say! I am going to work for those quarters the bus just ate, and husband schusband...so, not yet.

I was gleaming. I have been waiting for a great bus experience, and here it was in my old man friend in his gold rings and fedora! My stop was approaching and I got almost sad.

STOP REQUESTED.

I stand up with my new, purple backpack to rush off the bus before the doors close on me (I know one day they are actually going to). I throw my sunglasses back on. I turn back to my dear friend, lean down to hug him and he kisses my cheek with a shaking demeanor due to old age, or maybe just sheer delight. Hell, I might have been shaking, too. Again, I remove those big sunglasses and thank him.

I did not even get his name. But, he literally made the rest of my day. I stroll in to work with a little extra step in my boots. He set the pace for my entire rest of the day. I chose the scariest seat on the bus, and it ended up being the best seat in the house!

I hope to run into him again.

Just for those 12 minutes, he almost un-snobbed me. Almost.

Ma'am. Ma'am. You Can't Do That!

2009-10-28T09:39:00.001-07:00

So on the bus today....

visual: me at the bus stop with my over-sized blue beach cruiser with an iron basket, brand new gray legwarmers with purple stripes, a glittered headband, face swallowing pink plaid sunglasses, two huge bags - one a pink purse and the other a lululemon bag full of clothing, and a $1.25 in change in hand...ready to go!

For those of you that do not know about the public transportation system, as I am unwillingly becoming the 'pro', you can actually put your bike on the bus. Of course, I want to just wheel it up and on sit the thing beside me, but that won't work. So friends, there is a rack on the front of the bus that you, the green LA bus-riding citizen, can pull down to place your bike upon. I know, it sounds crazy. Well, it is crazy.

So here I am, waiting at my bus stop in the 90210 today. For some insane reason, it was 90 degrees in LA yesterday, and about 60-something today with winds out of the movie Twister, starring Helen Hunt. You know the one. I had been riding along Beverly Hills shopping district and quickly realized my life was in danger due to the wind daring to knock me off this bike if I were to pedal one more pedal. I pull over to my trusted bus stop and wait with my green friends. I twitch around a bit, as I am nervous about this bike-on-bus phenomenon.

I politely ask this blond woman, that is just rocking out to her headphones with full on head moves and hip gyrations, where does this number 720 stop? I figure since I have my bike, I can get to a close vicinity of my desired destination and spin the wheels a bit. She informs me this one will work out. GREAT!

You all, the bike-on-bus thing is a skill I have yet to master. Here is the deal, you have to go to the front of the bus. K wait, first you have to park your bike - yes I mean just kickstand it. Then, remove any lofty items that might slow this process or get in the way, thus my over-sized purse and clothing hit the concrete. Then, you have to go to the front of the bus, "push in to release the rack, then lift & pull" to get the bike rack located on the front of the bus down and available. Then, you literally have to pick up your bike and get it on this holder. Beach Cruisers are HEAVY! These aren't your lightweight typical road bike. I have a lot going on with this bike. So here I am, glasses, headband, socks falling down - lifting my bike to the rack. People, I feel ridiculous ...and EVERYONE inside the bus is staring at me...wondering what is taking so long, watching me struggle.... Alas, I finally get the bike on there. Almost done, you have to lift this hook mechanism over the front tire that is meant to keep the bike in place for the duration of your bus-riding experience.

I don't feel good about this. At all. The bus has yet to fail me though.

I jump on as quick as possible and say hello to my NON-friendly bus driver. Insert my five quarters. Look at me, on the bus and my bike on the front. VICTORY! I scan the area, no seats. I guess, I'll stand.

Now, here we are riding past Beverly Hills. I am in an ALL OUT panic. My bike is wobbling from side to side. A bump in the sidewalk, thus a bounce of my bike. I try not to watch, but I have to keep making sure it is still there. It is so very stressful. What if it falls off? What if it just falls over while still on the rack and causes a wreck? Oh dear God, what if it hits that BMW that just cut off the bus - causing my bus driver to lay on his horn and cuss just enough to not be under his breathe and causing me more anxiety?

Damn traffic.

I pull the cable near my neighborhood. STOP REQUESTED.

I scurry off the bus and to the front to promptly lift my precious bike to sturdy ground. So happy he is still seated in his upright and hooked-on position, I release the bike and lift. Yep, still heavy. I take him over to the sidewalk while some vagabond comments on my brute strength. Cool. I give him a thumbs up.

I proceed to pack my bike basket with the pink purse. Situate my clothing bag and check my cell phone. Giving the ponytail and headband some situating, the usual pre-bike riding stuff....

But, why is the bus still sitting there? I keep my head down, I'm scared to look. Is this one of those rest stops for the bus driver? Do they allow more time at this bus stop in case of stragglers who are getting off work?

The doors re-open....

"Ma'am. Ma'am!"

I look up to my NON-friendly, cussing, anxiety-causing bus driver.

"You can't leave THAT down!" as he points to that bike rack on the front of his massive transportation system.

I think or I know I went bright red, yelling I am sorry about 18 times. I avoid eye contact with any of my fellow bus riders and the driver. I "push in and lift" to align the bike rack against the bus front and rush back to my bike and blackberry. How was I to know?

I pedal like you have never seen against those raging winds!

In conclusion, if you want to ride the bus with your beach cruiser, please do not leave the bike rack down once you have reached your stop and your bike is removed. Just a friendly note I learned today.

A Rusty Wave

2009-10-20T18:15:00.000-07:00

So today while trying to get on the bus...

visual: me waiting at my normal spot, feeling good to get back on the big bus. new sunglasses with pink and black plaid rims, large patent leather-ish pink bag, and bright blue havianas flip flops (that I wish had the rhinestone peace sign thing between the toes).

I was so excited today to get back on the bus. I head down to my normal spot to wait for the rush bus - why they call it the rush bus, I do not know. I really do not think it goes that much faster.

Anyways, there I am. Sitting. Waiting. Waiting. Oh, here it comes - a bit longer than I am used to. I stand up to board, thinking there has to be another one of us getting on - ZOOM, right past me. I scold myself, I forgot to raise my hand!

I look around. Embarrassed. I sit down slowly. Half smiling - kind of like when you yell at someone you think you know and at that exact very moment their name comes out of your mouth and you start the long-lost-friend-across-the-street-wave, you realize it is so not them. Life seems to enter slow motion, just to enjoy that discomfort for a bit longer. I hurry to look busy and pull out my daily planner - you know, to look busy and maybe distract people from my lack of bus knowledge and sit down/stand up game I just played with bus 7-2-0. Scribble, scribble, scribble....just a couple very important notes I write and re-write. Well, here comes the bus everyone else at my stop is waiting for. I do not know about this number 2, I wonder where it goes?

Waiting....

Waiting...

Oh! My bus again. I panic for a hot second wondering if I can bring my Hazelnut Americano on the bus. Crap! I stuff it in my oversized bag. Ha, can't stop me! Hand ready. 4, ... 3, .... 2,....HAND RAISE!

ZOOM....right past me to the stoplight. I walk the extra five steps up to the door, smiling, hand in my pocket for those 5 quarters. Green light, bus goes.

WHAT?!? I'm starting to freak out. What the hell is going on? I am going to be late to work. I am NEVER late! I start walking around the bus stop area. Oh no, this old guy back there saw me miss the SECOND bus this morning. Great!

I walk towards the METRO sign. I can never read these things. And then...

I hear my name....oh no, someone else saw me! I turn to the oncoming traffic. Yes, it is 8am morning traffic...there are cars and people EVERYWHERE! And there in the midst of the mess, curly blonde hair, sticking her head out of a red PRIUS window; my friendly and green-going coworker!

"Need a ride?"

Are you serious? Hell YES! I bob and weave through a couple cars and dive in her car. We rev it as I just stopped traffic. Phew. 2 seconds down the road, there on the right of the road, inviting the great people of Los Angeles on their way to work, is my bus.....on the SE corner of the street.

Yes. Yes. You got it. I was sitting, standing, sitting, waving, confused and embarassed at the bus stop on the SW corner of the street.

My memory flashes....me, waving my hand like an utter idiot in plaid freaking sunglasses.

Did they change the bus pickup on me? How is this possible? I feel like I just got PUNK'D by the LA Bus System.

Thank God my co-worker drove by. How ironic that she was there, in her quiet, eco-friendly PRIUS, at that very embarrassing moment of need in my life. I guess it all worked out for me. Made it work on time. Had a nice conversation on the way. AC. Neurtral air smell. Norah Jones on the CD player. Calming little carpool we had going this morning.

Well, minus the whole waving at a moving bus and staring at the door as the bus driver doesn't even point to the NEXT bus stop five feet in front of me across the crosswalk. I was this close to knocking on those double doors...thank God the light turned green.

Really Metro? Throw me a bone here.

Do I miss the Bus?

2009-10-15T11:59:00.000-07:00

So this week I have a friend's car....

visual: blue Toyota compact car, Coldplay LIVE CD streaming from the stereo and out the open windows, spacious backseat for things I probably don't need (i.e. tennis shoes - just in case I decide to go workout after work...I have not yet, extra clothes, a gift maybe I will deliver to a friend....), and a box of Trader Joe's crackers in the passenger seat.

So, I am borrowing a friend's car while she is loving life in Hawaii. I was so excited when I dropped her off at the airport and sped off in my little blue car! I thought, "yes! Freedom!" as I banged my fist in the air. Oh, and I let freedom ring - freedom from friends having to pick me up, freedom from that damn bus system, freedom from my bike, freedom to snack in the car while talking on speakerphone and intermittently singing along to my own tunes at the top of my lungs. I stick my hand out the window and do that weird wave thing that people do when they drive fast, and I smile. This feel good, this feels right.

'Ding', the car rings, as if it is excited to have me in that driver's seat. So, I peek down at the dash as to give that baby blue a nod and a wink. Balderdash! Gas light!

So here I go, pull over to fill the gas tank. $37.00!! Well, a small fee for this joy ride.

But then, that sparkle and shine begins to wear off...

I sit in traffic daily, alone with my thoughts, leaving voicemail on peoples' phones, and listening to that overplayed CD. And what is this? My lulululemon groove pants feel a bit tighter due to no bike riding and/or bus stop walking. And then, I had to fill the gas tank AGAIN. Oh, and do not even get me started on parking in Beverly Hills or anywhere on the Westside, or really anywhere in Los Angeles for that matter!

As I sit at the stoplight, I peer in the rearview mirror at an old friend, Bus Line number 4. Here it comes loud, old, crowded and dependable. Just pushing its way through traffic like a freight train, on that mission to publicly transport the good green citizens of LA to their destined stops. Oh, there it goes past me in that right lane; I wave for some reason. There are people on that bus I could be meeting, hugging, judging them for judging me when they are actually asleep!

O M G, I miss the bus!

Here I am, polluting the earth. Watching my bank account dwindle to names such as Chevron, Exxon, or Arcco. Overeating these crackers and calling people I haven't talked to since high school because I cannot listen to Coldplay LIVE one more minute!

I miss my bus. I miss the lessons I learn daily while being snobby on my bus. I miss the people. I do. Crazy, I know! And I miss the excitement if I make it to an earlier bus, or that mystery of whether I timed it just right. Or the hunt for quarters. And that cool, earthy feeling that you are doing the 'green thing'.

I cannot believe I miss the bus.

LA Bus System Code of Conduct?

2009-10-14T11:34:00.000-07:00

So on the bus today....

visual: LA bus. me standing at the front in the way as all the people board, phone ringing - I silence it even though I really want to answer.

What are the rules of the Los Angeles bus system? Bus etiquette or code of conduct, if you will....

1) Can I eat on the bus?

2) Can I stand the entire ride, even if there is an open seat?

3) If I am standing at the bus stop, do I have to put my hand up every time? Wouldn't they know and not just drive past?
3a) They drove past me.

4) Can I talk on my cell phone? Is that rude? Should I put my phone on vibrate? Hell, I'm not in a business meeting or an interview here! And it is a 30 minute commute (traffic pending), I could really get some work done on here.

5) Can you talk to the bus driver? Even while he is driving?

6) Is there a cool section on the bus? I still don't know the ways. Like in school when all the cool kids rode in the very back....no?

7) How often do they clean the bus seats? And, I mean the actual fabric. I think that should be on a poster somewhere, even if they are lying - put my mind, current clothing I am wearing, and bum at ease, please.

8) Are there bus police? I see METRO police cop cars - but I wonder, are they upholding the law for the bus drivers on the road? What about the law-abiding, 'going green' citizens actually ON THE BUS?

9) Why don't they post instructions? I still do not know how to transfer, or buy a day pass. Even though - when I actually do know all these things I will have transformed and morphed into the true bus-rider. Maybe I don't want those instructions - but for tourists?

10) Do people ever tip the bus driver? We do for taxi and limo drivers....

11) All I am asking for is some hand sanitizer please? At the bus stop or on the bus...anything!

12) There is some metro entertainment now with a flat screen in the front corner of the bus, can we change the channel? Give me a show I can enjoy. Virgin Airlines should do a public transportation system....

commuter: "hey, you takin' the PARTY BUS to work this week?"

other commuter: "Is there any other way! I'll sit by you, in the back right?"

OKAY! Now people would GO GREEN for that!

Necessary Hug

2009-10-07T10:19:00.000-07:00

So the other day on the bus....

visual: Me waiting for the bus in my oversized 70's shades, a full on lululemon onsie (yes, you read that right, a workout romper, if you will), and my bright pink patent leather gym bag. Random dude on bench. Older couple from London strolling around the vicinity. And a lean, bearded woman from Switzerland waiting w/ her FULL shopping cart of 'treasures', maroon sequence pants and an oversized mens T-shirt with one arm filling the armhole and the other amidst the baggy inside.

So here I am, waiting for the bus to arrive. I never know what time it gets there - I just keep my fingers crossed that I don't miss the one heading my way. Well, the Swiss woman with the shopping cart and sparkle pants strikes up a conversation with me, pointing out that I look "hip and cool". Must have been the one piece outfit! Well, she is just girating around while conversing, like there is music playing, in which there very could have been in her own head. She is proudly holding up and seemingly showcasing a VOSS water bottle. That fancy, overpriced water you order at restaurants or bars when you do not choose tap water. Fancy schmancy - stupid really. Well this woman thinks it is just the coolest thing and is asking me where it comes from, and if she should keep it or throw it away, who drink this type of water and why they make the bottle appear this way...? Questions galore.

I tell her to keep it if she likes it, or recycle it and get that 5 cents for it at the recycling center.

She ponders and decides this is a treasure worth keeping and places it gently back in her cart. It is plastic, mind you.

I take a deep breathe. Look a little farther down the street searching for that beautiful number 4. Nothing. I begin to wonder why that woman has a mustache and beard. Could it be stress? Malnourishment? Homeless hygeine?

Oh goodness, here she comes again. I am a nice person, so I continue to chat her up. She asks me for money. I almost chuckle in my head...me? I need this money for the busy lady. She forgives me but then....she has one last question.

I turn to look at her, beard and all, and there she is close as all get out to me. "Can I have a hug".

I hesitate. If any of you know me, it takes me a hot minute to become that 'hugging' person in your life. But really, how do you say no to a hug? So she just comes on in for the real thing! I realize then that only one arm moves as the other stay stationary under the baggy T, so it is a half hug. But she smelled something fierce. And she held on tight. I felt of brush of her whiskers against my neck and I was like, I am definitely getting some type of Karma points for this! I squeezed back.

Then my bus came. We said our good byes.

How ironic, waiting at the bus stop having a conversation about water you cannot afford, nor would waste your money on. Yet that bottle become that woman's proud possesion. Funny world.

What did I learn? Well, everyone needs hugs. Right? And even though I kept smelling my onsie for the latter part of that day, thinking and double checking that maybe she had left some of her lingering aroma on me - I felt good.

Maybe she really needed that hug.

Or she was trying to pickpocket my huge pink purse with that one arm....

I'm going with the necessary hug. So go on, do one thing a day that scares you, hug a homeless, bearded woman in shiny pants at your bus stop!

She Hates Me!

2009-10-06T13:59:00.000-07:00

So today on the bus....

I was riding home this afternoon from Beverly Hills back to the beautiful Westside.

visual: me in my oversized sunglasses that look like they came right off the face of your grandmother from the 70's and plopped right down on my nose, decked out in my usual head-to-toe lululemon outfit, fanny pack buckled up tight, blackberry in hand, and a full lululemon sustainable shopper w/ a box of Honey Nut Cheerios spilling out the top.

Alright, I climb up to that crowded #720 bus and I sit in the first seat. I cozy up next to the larger gentleman taking up 2 seats beside me. He doesnt even budge a little bit when I try to maneuver in to my seat. Dude, you are taking up 2! Anyways, there is this woman sitting across from me. Purple sweater, big black sunglasses, and a backpack on rollers that is somehow the exact same color as her sweater. I wonder, did she plan that? Well, she is just staring me down. I mean, giving me the evil eye. I smile...nothing! Of course, I am like what is this about? Does she want some Cheerios? Is she jealous of my sunglasses? Read vision painted above, not possible. I half smile this time....absolutely nothing. Maybe a little huff. What is it? I keep averting my eyes to the front window - pretending like I am checking for my stop to escape, as if they don't announce each stop. She is still staring. I did workout this morning, am I giving off an aroma...an aroma that is somehow worse than the smell of the bus?

So here I go, on and on in my head. She hates me . She just hates me. Its my Asics tennis shoes. Nope, its all this lululemon stuff, I know it! Its my youth. It is this blemish on my face, I thought I covered it up! Its that I am not at work, but neither is she. It is my chipper endorphin-induced attitude....

Should I just ask her, "What is it heavy breathing, purple sweater-wearing, big black sunglasses, backpack on wheels for convenience owner?"

Then, her head falls to the side. Yep, she's sleeping.

She is fast asleep.

Look at me. So selfish. So egotistical. So me, me, me. As if this woman would have been looking at me and thinking all those things. She has bigger and better fish to fry, I know! I really am a snob on a bus.

As we finally come to my stop, I thank the bus driver ever so quietly, as to not wake my sleeping busmate. I jump off into the street, walking home like a dog with her tail between her legs, feeling so guilty and disappointed with myself. And disappointment is the worst!

So, what did I learn? People can be so harsh and I can easily become one of those people. I was a big snob. On a bus. Making up this story that I am being judged to the 100th power, when all along it is me who is judging. Me who is being so vane. Me that was acting better than another beautiful human being. I could be thinking of ways to better use my time, or my workout for tomorrow, or how to make this world better. Hell, I could be taking a nap!

Think....before you think, idiot!

That is what the Los Angeles Public Tranportation system taught me today.