Most

There isn't a Friday in recent times I can remember when I did not want to go to work more than I do not want to right now. (That sentence hurt me too.) 

Not only do I not feel like working, but there is somewhere I would much, much rather be. 

As a result, all the sniffling, weird-faced, bible-reading asshats on the train today are extra obnoxious. 

Hey lady, in the red jacket, yeah you. You suck at Candy Crush.

And you old man with the backpack. Anyone tell you 80 is too old for college*!

And you, construction worker guy. How dare you drink coffee so close to me. You are a poster child for cliché mornings!

It is my fault I am going in today, so I am the big dummyhead. 

*Kidding its never too late

Funk

@trimet would do well to come on board the blue train pullling up to Galleria right now. The level of funk coming from sone riders and their multiple bags is pungent at best. 

My eyes are watering... Dizzy... Ugggh.

Power

Music has otherworldly abilities. If sad, it can make you happy, or even more deeply sad. If you are lacking motivation, the right playlist will make you clean the whole house. These are well documented and borderline cliché observations.

But music has other powers. If lost, it can draw you a map. If you are heartbroken, can tell you why. The right notes and words strung together can explain a situation, provide solace, or kick down roadblocks in your brain. 

It's no wonder everyone would rather listen to music on the train and throughout the day: we aren't entertaining ourselves so much as weaving magic around us to make sense of life. 

But even magic has limits and silence can be the wise sage sitting high atop the mountain with a single finger pressed against his lips. There are times to listen to the music within.

Brevity

People are disappointing.

Reluctant

It was easy to get out of bed this morning considering my brain seemed to have no intention of using it. I hit snooze out of habit, not necessity.

At this time of day, the train seems to have orphans; the people here are either early or late to whatever obligation they have. Regardless, nobody seems in a hurry.

The most interesting guy here is a larger, young guy with a long nose, rosey cheeks, and greasy hair. He is wearing a Boba Fett tshirt which makes him appear in the Mandalorian armor. He looks like a very peaceful bounty hunter with his eyes closed, slowly bobbing his head to whatever soothing rhythms contracted killers enjoy.

Hurtled

We shot out of the tunnel so fast I would swear we caught air. It may have been imagined, but I felt a thud upon emerging. 

There is an infant behind me now bawling his ass off. He is either upset at the jolt, or at the unwashed person nearby that smells like garbage and sweet soda cans left out on a hot day. 

Its Friday and all I want is a beer and an ice pack. Its been a good day, and its time to relax with music.

Motivation

It's no secret that I am not a fan of my physical appearance on most days. Sometimes I feel a little better about it, like when a large, sweaty guy mashes his huge frame into a tiny seat next to me. 

This served a couple of purposes: it motivates me to not let myself get that large, and it makes me thankful that I am not there yet... 

I need to add two more hours of sleep per day, too. 

Irish

It's interesting how everyone is Irish on March 17th. Little leprechaun hats, light-up shamrocks and green beads are everywhere. I just wanted a beer with my best friend. 

The train is somewhat empty at this time of night. I am guessing the butter-zone between people getting off work and going home semi-puking like morons.

Thankfully this gets me my own seat and a quiet ride all the way home. (That is if people turned down their ring tones.)

Phones

One hundred percent of the people in my view are on their cell phones reading, browsing, watching shows, and blogging. That would be all twelve people in front of me. We are all so connected. 

I wonder what would happen to society if all cell towers crashed for a day. The forced disconnect would be incredible.

The guy sitting in front of me is wearing a Blazer ball cap, and it's on backwards. The kids these days like to leave price tags and holograms on the bill of the hat for some reason.

On his phone, he has his head tilted forward which makes me able to read the tags. In this case, I see the hat is an Adult Unisex and cost $32.00. What amuses me is the neon pink discount sale sticker next to it for $16.00. 

Boozetrain

The smell of beer, wine, whiskey and vodka swirl around this train. You may be thinking, "how do you smell vodka, isnt it supposed to be odorless?"

Maybe if you buy Grey Goose it has nearly no odor, but that bottom shelf plastic jug vodka smells like antiseptic and nail polish remover. 

It is Friday, so I guess much of this is expected. And sadly this is a red train do I will have to switch out to a crowded one soon. Blah. 

Memory

Left my headphones on my desk at work. This means I am once again forced to listen to one guys music, the bleeps and bloops of another girl's phone, and (my biggest pet peeve) the sound of the girl next to me eating her cereal and schlorpping her disgusting coffee. 

Lovely! But thats okay, because it is Friday and I am looking forward to the weekend. Yay!

In just a handful of hours I will be on my way home (with headphones) and ready to relax.

Many

Caught a later train and there are many people. From the ass talking on the phone, to the ironic hipster with a Power Rangers ringtone. 

The older lady next to me smells like soap and winesweat. (Or maybe her soap is just wine-scented. Who am I to judge?)

I also just saw a guy sneeze. Now most people sneeze into their hand or elbow. It makes for a pretty standard fare, but this is not a typical sneeze. This guy lifted up the shirt collar above his nose and sneezed down the front of his chest. This may be in some way hygienic for the rest of us, but all I can imagine is how gross his chest is at the end of the day. 

Erp.. Show me the way home please.

Sorta

I woke up this morning, technically. I wanted to stay there. 

On the train, this over-smiling girl won't stop talking on the phone. I can hear her voice over the sound of my music playing in my headphones. 

The guy next to her seems to be weighing his options if 20 years is worth strangling her.

Missing

Not having my headphones on the train is like not having my sunglasses at the beach. Too much stimulus. The din of conversation, phone calls, sniffles, coughs and other ambient train noise is not as tranquil as my music or a podcast.

Closest I have right now is the tst tst tst tst tst of whatever music the guy sitting next to me has playing in his headphones.

Tat tst tst k-tst... That's what I get for being forgetful. Not tomorrow!!!!

Flight

Somehow they started sending airport trains as far out as my station near my house. This will be awesome if I ever have to fly, but there is a lot of luggage on this train, and bleary eyes reading departure information.

But I will take the inconvenience if it means there are viable one-train options from my place to the airport now. 

The one old lady here near me is so sweet. She is apologizing repeatedly for her bag being in the way. I told her its no problem. Another passenger said, "we have all been there." And a third simply asked where she is off to.

Nice folks this morning. Yay for that!

The kid next to me is incessantly sniffling, and I forgot my headphones in my car. So I have to hear that the whole way in. Heh. Slurp.. Slurp.. Slurp..

Sweet

The guy next to me loves his candy. A middle aged guy with a bald head and caramel-colored skin. Which is appropriate because of all the sweets he is horking down.  Handfuls of different confections are chewed vigorously and swallowed. I am not certain he is a candy addict, or if it's a nervous habit of his while in public or on a train.

He finished his feast with three strips if mint gum. You know, gum: the dessert candy.

And now I nap.

Late

Insomnia can lead to change. Not so much in profound ways, but in weird subtle ways. A prime example would be deciding to sleep a little longer and catch a later train. 

There is an extremely different cast of characters on this train than my usual: muted artsy types trying hard to take up as much space possible without looking like they are doing it on purpose.

The kid behind me reminds me of someone else I know. The guy I know is a sweet kid in his early twenties who means well, but has this low, stuttered pothead laugh that makes him sound like a car that wont start.

This guy apparently is his laugh twin. And the guy with whom he is talking keeps making him laugh, so that is just awesome. Huh huh huh.

Train-Lite

Weirdness is almost nobody on my train home. Caught a nice seat next to a coworker. Works out great.

Only thing of note is the teenager whose hair is so blue it looks like a smurf exploded on her.

Sniff

Back in the 80s, there was a movie called, "The Incredible Shrinking Woman." It starred, I think, Lily Tomlin as a housewife who accidentally spilled all her cleaning chemicals on her one day. The mixture was just right, and she shrunk. Hijinx ensued.

Fantastic premise I know, but also the biting social commentary of a chemically reliant society. 

I want walk down the platform of the train and sniff each person, and if they are drowned in perfume or cologne, should be able to poke them in the face or pour water on their head. I feel with all these chemicals, I may emerge from my commute with a second head or gills.

Gag. 

Last

The guy next to me is seriously upset that he ate all of his McDonalds French Fries.

Enraged.

Can't really type any more to top that.. And I'm trying hard not to laugh.

Sewage

The guy next to me who, for the record looks like a discount, anorexic Indiana Jones, is drinking coffee that smells how you could imagine hot, boiled ass to smell. I glance over and he is drinking out of one of the corporate, color-changing, coffee tumblers given out to us at work. So this shit-coffee drinker is a coworker. Wonder why I don't recognize him. 

My guess: accounting. 

Across from me is some big athlete guy sleeping with his head back and jaw slacked open. His stained gym shorts tented across his two splayed legs, his hood pulled up on his high school "State Champs" sweatshirt, and a patchwork red beard on his chin make him quite the sight..

He looks like a fat elf that's been tranquilized. It's a full train and people are standing. He is taking up almost three seats, but nobody seems to want to wake up the sleeping giant.

Aural

Today is a cavalcade of sound; a bull rush into my head making me grateful for the earbuds I just shoved into my skull. But before I managed that, this is what I observed:

Behind me is a Mexican lady on a cell phone loudly talking to someone. I wonder if she knows the phone will send conversation level sound. I believe whomever it is can hear her with or without the phone. She is either upset, excited or in pain.

Behind her is an older guy in a biker jacket with the worst, gurgly case of the sniffles I've heard in a while.  We are talking snot buckets here. Worse than that sound is the loud-click swallow he makes afterwards heard eight feet away. 

I almost hurled myself.

Across from him is a young couple heavily making out very inefficiently with tons of mouth schlorping sounds. The guy is treating her face like a dog attacks a jar of peanut butter.

And finally, the three year old pointing out every car that we pass by. 

"Look gamma, a nudda car!" repeated for the 253rd time.

Home, Jeeves!!!!

Photo

There is a couple sitting together at an end of the train that makes me smile. They are clearly both tired, looking freshly showered and swaddled up in their fleece jackets and knit caps. His arm is around her shoulder, her head resting on his chest, and the side of his bearded face resting on the top of her head. They are holding hands in front of them. They both have their eyes closed and look so peaceful.  

It's this feeling of content happiness that is so amazing; knowing you are not alone in the world. I've been where he is and can tell you without hesitation that of all the feelings and emotions and experiences in the world, what he is feeling in this moment is easily one of my all time favorites. 

Happy Friday.

Quiet

Everyone tonight is in their phones, books, and eyelids. We all have two seats and are totally non-interactive. The late trains don't afford much in the way of entertainment or fodder for blogging about.

I almost didn't post because I have little to say.  But I am relaxed, tired, and ready for bed. I don't know if it's possible, but hope to sleep tonight.

Post-rebellion

You rarely see people who rebelled against society and culture in their later years because most people tend to eventually mellow out and end up fitting into just "life" (lower case L). 

Not this woman, though. She is easily late 40s, early 50s. She has bright red hair (though with one-inch gray roots), with one side being hastily bobbed with safety scissors, and the other is shaved short up to the part in her head. 

Her eye-liner is thick and black, possibly applied with a sharpie, and ocean-blue eyeshadow is everywhere. She has an army jacket on and a tank top, so I can see the tattoos across her chest that were once bright, vibrant and colorful have all muddled into purple Rorschach shapes. I see a bat, angel wings, and spilled coffee.

I know it's just perception, but she seems very sad. She is looking around at everyone, but nobody is looking at her. She picked the wrong city to try to stand out; we have Darth Vader in a kilt on a unicycle playing flaming bagpipes: you're going to have to up your game if attention is what you seek.

Abandonment

The guy behind me, probably about 24 or so, has his iPhone up in front of his face, as if his nose is a stylus. His headphones are in and he is talking loudly into the phone. In fact, I'm not certain he knows how to correctly use a phone. After all, he has his cheek pierced just under his eye.

Everyone around is pretty annoyed with Captain Conversation here, but gradually his long, lugubrious conversation drags to its end. 

"Well, I will talk to you later, mom," he mumbles, "Thanks. Love you."

Everyone somewhat sighs in relief, but all he does is sit there for a few moments in silence before the loneliness is too much for him and he dials someone else up and the process begins again.

We are entering the tunnel and he will be alone and detached for almost six minutes. Not sure if he can handle it.

Fog

Outside is a giant cloud.  Looking out my back door this morning was like someone forgot to draw the world. I beat Mother Nature out of bed.

It kinda matches the fog in my head. Went to bed earlier than usual last night, and still not sure if I ever got to sleep. I think I dreamed I had insomnia. Woke up with a crick in my neck and a heart filled with disappointment in my pillow for letting me down.

Large

Today it seems that everyone on the train is "American" sized and all the seats are European. Lots of spillover here. I'm not a tiny guy myself, but I feel so small right now. 

And I am smooshed in my seat against a window, and it's making it difficult to type. 

Also, there are a lot of people on their phones having loud conversation that nobody wants to hear.

Nobody. Wants. To. Hear.

Truth

There is a couple sitting by each other and they are having obvious issues. He was very late supposedly in meeting her, and this upset her. Apparent he was supposed to meet her at 1 and he showed up at 3 instead. 

But she is very vague and distant with him. He asked her, out of the blue, why did she take off her wedding ring. She apparently put it on when's he showed up. After the third time of pressing, she quickly said, "I had to take it off to take a shower, you know," the entire time not making eye contact.

Look.  Im not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but I also know people who won't take their ring off for any reason, even decades through a relationship. 

I feel kinda bad for this guy, not that this is going on.. He might deserve it.. But that he is missing the signs.

Holiday

Today is the celebrated Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday and many places must be shut down today. How do I know? It's because almost everyone on the train has their own double seat to themselves, when usually it's standing room only by now.

One oddity being a business woman got on and passed up a guy in a suit, me, a teen reading a kindle and an old lady napping to sit next to a gritty, homeless guy who had to move his garbage bag of clothes so she could sit down.

Oddly enough, I am only noticing that she picked the person who was most inconvenienced by her needing a seat, and it just seemed extra weird. She is reading her own book now when I thought she might engage him in conversation.

I want to go back to bed now.

Multilingual

My guess is that this adorable little girl across from me is maybe two years old. She is discovering her language and that is precious.

What is not, however, is the incredible screeching volume at which she is doing it. I cannot discern her or her mothers ethnicity, but her mom clearly speaks another language. 

What this means is that not only is she paint-peelingly loud, but this kid is shrieking every other word in English, and the others in her mom's native tongue. 

The result has me confused, bewildered, and in more pain than I was already in. (Which is quite a bit.) It's hacking away like a dull knife through my warm sourdough brain... It's not actually cutting, but pinching and ultimately ruining everything.

I just want to be home.

Wrong

If you have to state verbally that you are a nice person, or that you hate drama, or that you are not a racist, it really does sound like you are trying to convince yourself more than inform others.

This lady across from me has said some very mean, sad things to her companion, but she seems to start so many of her sentences with, "I am a very nice person, but..."

If you need to qualify the statement with, "but," then you are disqualifying the statement.

You are not a nice lady. You have a spiteful, morose candy coating, and are  filled with a sweet rage nectar. There is nothing at all nice about you. Embrace your evil.

Early

Walking on my way to the train, I noticed this young girl walking across the blocks in the financial district. I'm going to guess maybe 10 or 11. She is dressed very fashionably in tall tan boots, a long red wool coat, and had a portfolio under her arm. She could easily be any random professional person on the street had she not been four feet tall and 60 pounds.

I initially figured she was with a parent and just ahead or behind, but a glance in both direction showed she wasn't. The thing is, she didn't look lost at all, and was walking with confident purpose. It confused me because at that age, I might be a bit more pensive and anxious about my surroundings in a large city with many homeless begging for change.

It was just very odd to see downtown. 

Win

There is a guy in a suit playing some video game that apparently is really aggravating and entertaining. He is smiling and then frowning then smiling again. It may be a racing game, because he is steering his phone like a wheel.

But this guy is probably mid-50s, salt & pepper hair, and has a corporate aura about him, but right now I feel I could capture this all on camera and use it as blackmail. 

But nah... Let him enjoy. I bet his job sucks and this is his outlet.

Dream

The older lady next to me is skinny, has light-blue acid-washed jeans, a pleather coat, and dry bleached hair (except for the two inches of roots). My guess would be either a well-kept 67 or a hard-lived 58.

She is inexplicably banging her head in unison with the Pallbearer music in my headphones. Which, I checked, isn't audible outside of my ears. 

In a grocery bag she has a box of FrootLoops she has been snacking out of this whole time. This woman is in her own world and owning it. She is happier than most people on this train. 

Big

Guy that was next to me was of broad shoulders like me. He was holding a bible in one hand, and a yellow highlighter in the other.  Every few moments, he would get excited, flail slightly, and highlight a passage with glee. 

I don't know if I should br more amused or frightened, but wasn't pleased wth the flailing because it would give me a hearty shove. It's far too early for me to be snapping necks, so I scooched across the aisle and sat down next to a skinny art student. 

Thank goodness for lanky guys, they make for good public transportation.

Liquid

Fun fact: if you break the seal at the bar downtown, 5 minutes into your 37 minute train ride home, you'll have to pee so badly it causes physical pain.

It's a fairly empty train right now. Everyone has two seats, and are downtown already if they need to be, or will return later when their youthful bodies tell them to leave. 

Oh my.. I don't remember the train being quite so bumpy. I hope I don't get to the stage where I am weighing pros and cons to just wetting myself. 

Okay not really but.. Driver! Skip a few stops and get me home!!! 

Beauty

Maybe it's the bleariness of morning, or perhaps we uglies just work earlier, but I am on a later train this morning and the people here are way better looking than my normal commute.

It also could be because they had more time to get ready. The women are more beautiful, the men are more handsome, and everyone seems way more fashionable. I feel underdressed and homely comparatively right now.

This is all fine and dandy to me. For me the view is mostly the same: phone or the inside of my eyelids. 

Smish

Some days it seems a much larger contingent of people are heading out of downtown. Usually I get on and there are either places to sit, or I am hanging in the aisles sort of swaying around like a wacky waving inflatable arm-flailing tube man. 

Other days, it's crowd surfing at a really crappy nü-metal concert. Today is closer to the latter as we all pile in like amorphous, squishy Tetris pieces trying to use the space with the most efficiency. 

Few stops and the train will eject some of these people and maybe I can take full breaths. (Not that I really want to, mind you. Someone nearby is attempting to hide their wine-fueled alcoholism behind cough drops, and it's not working.)

Baby

Three people in my eyeline are hugging their backpacks close to their chests as if it were a precious infant. You know the pose, it's the cliche office nerd in any 80s movie who sits on a bench with his cheap, brown briefcase clutched to his chest tightly. He nervously waits to give the secret plans to some other guy. 

Make that four people. This is an odd phenomenon. 

I have no belongings I can think of that I would cradle so protectively in a bag while sitting on a train.

Tone

There is likely the most tone-deaf old lady singing songs on the train, and she just doesn't care what you think about it. She is just belting out the hits.  I listened to a few bars before putting in my headphones. I wonder what she hears in her head

Good on her. Hope someday I can simply just do that stuff and it will be generally accepted as "cute," instead of, "insane."

Also, guy next to me hits me one more time with his backpack, my next post may be from jail if they let me blog from there.

Mobster

There is a tall, built guy wearing a black leather duster jacket, trilby hat, and scowl on his face. He is using his phone, a large smartphone, to likely keep in touch with his soldiers. 

Between his fingers in the hand that is holding the phone, is a ziplock filled with cereal. My guess is that it is snack for later. 

Joey Bag-a-Cereal gets peckish between hits. So where does he go for satisfaction? Boom! Cheerios.

Youse gotta prahb'm wit dat?

Note: there is a Cereal Killer joke in here, but that felt trite.

Games

Phones everywhere and all I can see are games; most of them are card games. I wonder if any of them are parents of kids who play video games and admonish those children for rotting their brains.

I challenge any adult to be "good" at a modern game like Call of Duty, Halo, or even a MMO like World of Warcraft or EverQuest. There are such mechanisms, dexterity, social conventions, and problem solving involved. I would venture most parents lack the patience, focus, or aptitude to handle any of them: even a basic one. 

So keep playing your solitaire and think you are just relaxing. It's different, really. You are putting in virtually no work for that game. You know the dozen rules and it stays static. Get your three candies in a row. Get your Ace to make that flush. 

But I dare you to figure out the timing, skill, and coordination to pull of a 48-person assault with strategy, precision and structure in an ever changing world where the rules constantly morph.

In short, stop judging. These kids will have more skills than you probably when they are your age.

Bible

Revenge of Bible Guy.

Return of the Bible.

One Flew Over the Bible's Nest.

Regardless how you want to say it, it always makes me shake my head when some of the most rude people on the train in the morning are those who are reading their, "good book," a supposed manual on how to be a good person.

The teachings seem to fall flat with regards to their fellow passengers. I can only hope at home they take the teachings a bit more seriously. 

You know: the love thy neighbor parts, not the, "it's okay to kill someone if they wear mixed fabrics," parts.

I think we need a new book for these people: "Chicken Soup for the Commuter Soul," or "Idiots Guide to Sharing a Public Space."

New Start

So here we go again, another year of funny smells, weird looks and inappropriate behavior by the denizens of this fine metropolis. I always found it interesting the blend of people from all walks of life that call Portland home.

In other words, this city has some wacky bastards, and I just need to blog about it.

I was sitting next to this girl and her little black curly-haired dog, but he kept sniffing me way more than the USDA amount.  Thankfully, a spot opened up and I was able to move to a less sniffy seat.

However, now I am near a crazy middle eastern guy on a laptop and a Bluetooth earbud talking to someone very loud and fast.  As we entered the tunnel, he looked at his phone in disgust since he lost signal, and then he looked back up at me smiling this huge Cheshire Cat grin.

I'm a real stinker, ain't I?