Thursday, July 16, 2009

My "Friends" on the Bus

Riding public transit is a new experience for me. Before high school, I had never even been on a school bus (small, private Catholic schools usually can't afford or even need a bus system), and before college, the only public transit I had ever used was the Metro system in Washington DC. Sad, I know. In high school, I always had my car, and a private vehicle was a lot more reliable than a bus, especially in agricultural areas, aka the boonies. This being said, my first adventure on the bus was a unique one. I didn't sit next to anyone, and thought that only weirdos rode the bus. I was so thankful when my parents let me have my car at school 2 years later. The rest of my time at school, I avoided taking the bus whenever possible. The MAX system, though, was entirely acceptable. Don't ask me why.
Now that I'm on my own and working downtown, I was faced with a tough choice: either take the time, money, and stress to drive downtown every day and pay for parking (it's $15/day in my building, and $11.50/day across the street -- my job doesn't pay for parking), OOOOOOOOR I could just get a bus pass and take the bus to work everyday. I had it in my mind that the bus was the last possible resort, but after doing the math, I realized that $40/month for a bus pass was the much cheaper way to go (it's actually more expensive than that, but I have an awesome borhter-in-law who has agreed to buy them for me with his student discount).
And so, on my first day of work, I showed up to my bus stop a bit apprehensive of what was to come. The last time I rode a bus, I ended up next to a guy who had an aura about him that made me think he hadn't showered in quite some time, and the time before that, I sat next to a guy who picked his nose and ate it...for the entire ride. See why I wasn't too keen on getting on another bus?
After a while, I've now noticed who the regulars are on my buses. We don't ever really talk to each other, except to say "Good morning!" and maybe comment on the weather. And since I don't know their names and try to pass the time on the bus, I've taken to naming some of them. For example:

Frank: Frank is a nice guy. Somehow, he always manages to arrive just 2 minutes before the bus comes, while I'm always the one standing there for at least 8 minutes. Frank wears a wrist brace for some reason, but seems pretty normal. Plus, he has an OSU backpack that he carries everyday, thus making him above par. Frank is a good guy to sit next to.
Pam: Pam is always on my bus on the way home, rather than in the mornings. She has white hair, and seems pretty nice, even though we don't talk.
Lester: Oh, Lester. He's a mystery to me, but I've started to come up with a life story for Lester, even if it isn't true. Every day, he's on the bus when I get on, and manages to stare at me with icy blue eyes (don't worry, it isn't uncomfortable at all). And every day, he's wearing dirty blue jeans, a jean jacket with the elbows worn out, and his baseball cap. Every day, he gets off at the stop on 17th and McLoughlin, with a 6-pack of cheap beer in a 7-11 bag. Either Lester is the popular guy on the construction site, or he's had something rough happen in his life that leads him to have a relationship with his beer. Since I'm not brave enough to talk to him, let alone ask him about it, I guess I'll never know.
Michelle: Michelle also rides the evening bus, and has some pretty cute clothes, which I could also wear if I was a size 4. She has a tattoo of a paw print on her foot, and is currently reading the 4th Twilight book (Breaking Dawn, one of the better in the series). She's pretty punctual, too.

And then there's me, the girl who usually trips going up the stairs or manages to fall into someone's lap when the bus takes a sharp corner. Riding the bus is always a unique experience.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

ABCs of KLK

A- age: 22
B- bed size: twin (would love to upgrade someday, when I have the space, money, and actual need to)
C- chore you hate: yardwork.
D- don't eat: hmmm, I eat almost anything. But I don't LIKE olives.
E- essential start your day item: coffee/caffeine.
F- favorite board game: Apples-to-Apples. Which I realize isn't technically a board game, but I'm making the rules here, and I say it counts!
G- gold or silver?: both. Depends on the outfit, dontcha know?
H- height: 5'9"
I- instruments you played: piano lessons for 9 years. learned how to play the ukilele in 4th grade, but don't remember how to now. I was also pretty skilled at the recorder. You know you're jealous.
J- job title: receptionist/personal assistant/office administrator.
K- kid(s): zero.
L- living arrangements: living with grandma in milwaukie. it's actually better than you'd think.
M- mom's name: Kellie
N- nicknames: Kourt, Kourts, Kourtsers, Tourts, Kiester, Smart-Ass-Little-Shit (my dad's personal favorite)
O- overnight hospital stay other than birth: none.
P- pet peeve: dirty dishes in the sink.
Q- famous movie quote: "Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people don't just kill their husbands. They just don't!"
R- right or left handed?: right
S- sibling(s): 1 amazing (older!) sister and an awesome brother-in-law.
T- time you wake up: gym days: 3:57am, non-gym days: 5:45am, weekends: around 7:30-8am
U- underwear: Preferably thongs.
V- vegetable favorite: Carrots, tomatoes (I know they're techncally a fruit, but whatever), asperagus, bell peppers.....aka lots.
W- ways you run late: spending too much time on Facebook.
X- xrays you've had: teeth, feets, and wrist.
Y- yummy food you make: desserts -- notably Snickerdoodles.
Z- zoo favorite: polar bears or the tubby penguins.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Trapped in a Fishbowl

At work, my desk is the first thing one sees when entering our office. I'm the receptionist/office administrator/personal assistant extrordinaire, which explains the location of my desk. Our office shares the floor with an engineering/architectural firm, with one of their corridors going right in front of my desk. Now, this wouldn't seem so bad, except that the front doors to our office are made 99.99% of clear glass. So I can see exactly who is walking by, who is going to the bathroom without washing their hands (trust me, I KNOW who you are), and what time people sneak out to go home for the day. Only problem is....they can see me too. No big deal, right?
Kinda.
Not to stereotype, but a good percentage of engineers/architects are men. Some of these men are young and kind of cute. Others are not. One man in particular bugs me a bit, just because my "CREEPER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" alarm goes off every time he walks by and looks at me in a way that makes my skin crawl a little. Now I'm sure that he's a perfectly nice gentleman, greatly respected by his peers and subordinates alike, but the too-short shorts, long semi-greasy hair and outright staring start to get on my nerves a bit.
On a happier note, some of the nice neighbor folks have poked their head in and introduced themselves. Do I remember their names? Of course not, which is strange because I'm generally pretty good with names. But they always smile and wave as they walk by.
And this cute guy has been starting to wave....hmmm....
Maybe life in a fishbowl isn't so bad.

Thursday Night Surprise

Guess what happened at my house last night? I know that when most people come home from work, they like to put up their feet, and have a glass of wine or beer or something. I’m not quite that conventional; my first move when I get home is to dump my junk on the futon, and head out to the garage to get a Healthy Choice Fudgsicle out of the freezer. So imagine my disappointment when I get home last night, head out to the garage, and discover that the freezer door didn’t get shut all the way, because so much ice has built up on the door jam that it prevents the door from shutting all the way. Which means that everything located in the front of the freezer was now a toasty 60 degrees. Including my fudgsicles. I love my abilities to prioritize – I first holler to my grandma that the freezer door wouldn’t shut, and then proceeded to move all the ice cream from the big freezer to the smaller freezer, so that something as wonderful as Tillamook ice cream wouldn’t go to waste. Then I used my new screwdrivers that I got for my birthday to chip away the ice from the door jam so that the door could close and give the food a chance to freeze up again. I don’t think that’s what my mom and dad had in mind when they gave me a fully-stocked toolbox for my birthday, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.