I can't believe it finally happened.

Today was like any other BART morning commute day, which meant I passed out around the Bayfair station. Someone sat next to me a few stations later, but whoever it was sat so gently I knew this person wasn't one of my many BART nemeses. And this person was probably a female (again, women hardly sit down like a linebacker unless they're shaped that way). No need to worry.

I woke up at some point because the train was stopped longer than normal, but then I heard the "ding, ding" of the doors closing, and so I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.

And I slept.

And then I felt someone gently hitting my arm. I looked up and we were in an underground station, so I quickly looked for a sign, and it said Montgomery.

Oh, wait a minute. That's my station! Holy smokes!

I looked at the person who hit me and it was this lady who has been sitting next to me every so often. She knew this was my station, so she, being the kind lady that she was and never once one of my nemeses, woke me up.

After thanking her a million times, I jumped up in total disarray and walked to the door. Then I realized I left my lunch bag on the floor next to my bench, so I went back and grabbed it, all the while thanking her.

So I guess I learned three things this morning:

1. I'm unusually tired as of late. Not sure why, but I really am. I keep telling everyone this, and no one seems to care. I care. I'm tired. Let me sleep.
2. I've lost my ability to tell where I am at all times on BART while sleeping (I used to be so good at that!).
3. I guess I shouldn't complain so much when the same person sits next to me all the time. If only I could pick that person.... I think I would pick that lady. Yes, she would do nicely.

I wonder if red-haired guy would have woken me up? How about disgusting fat man? Backpack lady? Probably not. I don't seem to have a good relationship with them at all.

Now I wonder if this lady will ever sit next to me again. I wouldn't want to take on the responsibility of waking someone up each morning. And to think, there has been several times where I've left the Fremont train while someone was sleeping away, and while it crossed my mind that maybe this person would appreciate a quick tap on the shoulder as I passed by them so they too can get off the train, I just snicker to myself that he or she will be heading back to SF soon.

Spare the Air!

Somehow, maybe by consulting with a psychic or just because they feel so bad scaring all us commuters during the "strike threat of 2005," BART has figured out that tomorrow will be a "spare the air" day. What does this mean? Thanks to someone's fantastic air quality guessing powers....I get to ride BART in the morning for FREE!

The signs are posted all over the place, the announcements are rolling on the overhead signs.

I can't wait! Free rides! Woohoo!

I've turned...

into a twitcher. I've been so tired lately while going to work and going home, it's inevitable that I'll fall into a deep sleep. As I've mentioned before, and as we're all aware of, people tend to twitch when they first start falling asleep. I do this when I'm really tired. It's getting rather embarrassing because I tend to jerk my arm around, wake myself up (but I keep my eyes closed for fear of looking like an idiot), then fall right back to sleep and do it again. I think I jerked my arm 4 times in a row going home on Friday.

Who knows who was watching me. I just keep my eyes closed until I fall under that veil called sleep again.

Maybe I should by that $100 "nap strap" for my arms. The more I look at this website, the more I realize what I fool I was to not come up with baseball cap + heavy elastic strap = $140 bucks. Darn, I've missed yet another calling in life. And to think, it's socially acceptable! Damn, damn, damn!

Running pt. 2

I was telling my husband about the running lady (he still doesn't read my blog unless I force him to), and I thought, since there is so much extra security and bomb-sniffing dogs and all that good stuff, why didn't someone shoot the lady who was bum rushing the train?

And then what happens? Someone gets shot in London because he was bum rushing the train.

Go figure.

Running

Today, while at Embarcadero, the train was at the platform longer than normal. The BART operator actually opened and closed the doors a few times. I think the BART cops were walking the platform because of today's bombings in London (I think it's time to leave London alone, don't you?) so the operator wasn't sure when to leave.

Right as the doors closed for the last time, this lady comes running up the platform towards the front of the train. When the doors close, the train generally starts moving a few seconds later. There isn't much of a delay. So, on cue, the train started moving forward while this lady was running to the front of it. I watched her through the windows, and she ran all the way to the end of the platform. She was waving.

What was the BART operator going to do? Stop the train, walk to the back and move the train back into the station so she can get on? I'm surprised she didn't start smacking the train on the side like that lady was doing the other day. Or jump in front of it. Because you know, it wasn't like another train was probably a minute behind ours. Oh no. Ours was the only train this morning.

What a lovely suggestion

My momma suggested this wonderful item for those bob, weave and swayers on BART who end up sitting next to me. I think it would make a lovely torture device for my many nemeses. At $100 buck a pop, I think it would be a wise investment.

Invisible girl becomes visible

Okay.

I think I snapped today because I finally decided I wasn't going to put up with disgusting, fat men who decide to sit next to me (and who smell like metallic stink).

Let me back up and quickly write about what happened yesterday. It was a minor incident, not even worth two seconds of thought. I was really tired going to work yesterday and pretty much slept the whole way to work. When there was about 20-15 minutes left of the train ride, this man decides to sit next to me. He made his presence known by sitting down like he weighed 500 lbs. I think I actually jumped out of my seat a bit because of his body slam into the seat. I was so tired that I just opened one eye to see how big this man was (not very) and went back to sleep. Usually I get mad and can't go back to sleep, but again, I was dead tired yesterday.

Today, I was tired again because my beloved cat decided 3:15 am was the perfect time to get up and act like she's a kitten. When I get woken up, I have a really hard time going back to sleep. So my beloved kitty took about an hour of sleep away from me last night. She owes me. I fell asleep after Dublin/Pleasanton. Nice, peaceful snooze. I made it on the earlier train today, so that generally means no one will sit next to me.

We arrived at Fruitvale (I remember hearing this way in the back of my head) when SLAM! someone sat down next to me. I think I was airborne again for a few seconds. I opened my eye and looked the person sitting next to me. It was a man (of course -- women, unless really overweight, do not sit down like this). He was looking at me. Now that's kind of creepy. I generally don't look at the people who sit next to me, but let's just say I kept my eyes closed. That means creepy man would be peeping at me while I slept. He looked like an older white man. Didn't think anything of it except that he, like my beloved kitty, woke me up and now I was mad and now I wouldn't be able to go back to snoozing.

I tried to go back to sleep, but I slowly started feeling this man's leg pressing against my own. I looked down and his legs were spread wide open and getting wider. I contemplated my situation. Do I start smacking his leg with my leg in hopes he gets the point? Do I just deal with this man invading what little space I have and let him lean his disgusting body into mine?

Then the snapping happened, and I got really mad. No. NOOOO. This was not going to happen to me for the millionth time! I was not put here on this earth for disgusting, fat, sloppy, stinky men to lean on and not care about!!

So I looked around.

THERE WERE SEVERAL, SEVERAL EMPTY BENCHES SURROUNDING US.

Then I looked at the man again, and I realized whatever I saw before (older, white man) was totally wrong, and it was this serial slob that has sat next to me before and done the exact same thing. This man is disgusting. He's fat, he doesn't wear socks, and he eventually falls asleep and loses all control over his body. His mouth hangs open, and I wouldn't be surprised if he started to drool. The only weird part about him is that he is dressed as business man would be, albeit a disgusting, fat business man. You would think whatever job he has that he has to dress this way, he'd have some common decency and not sit next to young woman and press his fat leg against them.

When he sat next to me before, I got really mad and started banging my leg into his leg repeatedly in hopes he'd either get the point that I really didn't want him touching me or that he'd move. Neither happened. He would move his leg away and then it would slowly move right back. I had no where to go that time, so I just put up with it while feeling slightly violated on some level.

Today was a different story. I decided there was no reason for this to be happening to me, and that I, ultimately, had control over the situation.

Invisible girl became empowered.

Since there were so many available benches to sit on, I shoved this man slightly with my bag to wake him up and told him to excuse me. He looked flabbergasted! At this point we were in the tunnel going through Oakland, so he was probably thinking, "where is she going? There's no where to go!" He moved his blubber body out of the way (still not wearing socks -- hey, it is summer time), and I moved to my own bench. Sleep at this point was not going to happen, so I sat and fumed over the situation.

Next I take on red haired guy.

Pigeons

Just something I've realized lately:

If you're a pigeon in San Francisco, and you have all your toes and even your feet, you're a pretty special pigeon.

Conference People

Conference people annoy me. Not only has BART had issues all week long (late trains going home, some in the morning), but I've had to deal with all these conference people that are attending a nanotechnology conference. They all have really big nanotechnology bags full of nanotechnology goodies (whatever that could be) and they're all taking up my choice seats on the BART train!

And they walk really slow.

And they talk about things that make no sense to me and aren't interesting to eavesdrop.

And they don't understand the concept of a line.

And they cut in front of people.

And they just plain annoy me.

Why does this keep happening to me?

I don't know what's wrong with the way I look, but something must be wrong because this was at least the 3rd time, if not the 4th time this has happened to me.

Apparently I need to be saved.

The first time it happened to me, I was totally baffled. I thought it was funny, actually. Until it happened again and again.... I walk down New Montgomery to get to the BART station. This is a pretty populated street (cars and people). The first time this happened to me, it was about a year ago or maybe two years ago, I honestly don't remember. I was walking up the street, just passing the PacBell building, when I noticed two Asian girls walking my way. I don't know why I noticed them, I just did. I probably made eye contact with them (never NEVER make eye contact!!!) or something, but I know if I did, I would have looked straight ahead almost immediately. They passed me by, but then stopped and said "excuse me" in heavily accented english.

So I stopped.

They both were holding some thing in their hands. One asked, "Do you like to go to church?"

I just looked at them.

"We like to go to church!"

They smiled at me. I just looked at them.

"Do you want to go to church with us?"

I just looked at them.

Then I shook my head and walked away.

What the heck? What was that all about? And I noticed them -- and they didn't do this to anyone else, so why me? What was I exuding that they picked up on? My nasty attitude? A dirty look? I called my husband as I continued to walk up the street. He didn't know either. He said maybe I looked nice. Now that's a first -- No one ever tells me I look nice. I'm always told I look mean. I can't help how I look.

Anyway. You would assume this was some bizarre, once in a lifetime thing, but then it happened again. This time it was a single Asian girl, and she basically said the same thing to me. I kinda saw it coming because she did the same thing -- passed me by, then stopped and "excused" me, and then went on her very brief speil about going to church with her. I just walked away in mid sentence. I called my husband that time as well, and he just laughed at me.

And then it happened to me again today.

But today really caught me off guard. And what's even funnier about it is that I was just thinking the other day about this whole thing and how it hasn't happened again. So yes, I essentially cursed myself yet again.

I was walking down New Montgomery when I noticed this long haired blondy walking down the street. Don't ask me why, but I noticed her and quickly looked away. Again, NO EYE CONTACT!!! (Smacking myself on the forehead.) Since she was a white blondy, I was only slightly suspicious when she passed me, stopped and then "excused" herself to me. I stopped and turned around. She was holding something in her hands. She started smiling at me. And then in some broken Scandinavian accent she said something about being Christian (or maybe her name was Christine?). I rolled my eyes, turned around and called my husband to tell him it happened AGAIN!!!!

Now, I won't use this blog to spout how I really feel about this or religion because I've never really been one for that. To each his own, I say. But I'm the very last person on this earth that you would approach on the street to talk about church or religion. The very last person. This is like me going up to these people (and somehow knowing how to find them or which ones they are on the street) and insisting they go to the nearest tattoo parlor with me to get a new devil tattoo on their butts. Or how about grabbing a pint at the closest seedy bar? I mean, come on! Three times this has happened to me?

What I'd like to know is how these foreign girls are getting wrapped into this nuttiness. It's just weird.

And why me??? Apparently my invisible girl shield wears down among the presence of religious folk.

Nodding off....

I've already mentioned this before -- I hate it when I'm in the window seat on BART and someone sits next to me and nods off. Why? Because most people can't control themselves and end up swaying towards the person sitting in the window seat. That would be me most of the time.

So there I was on the BART train, sitting in the window seat, when this man quickly changed his mind from sitting in the aisle seat on the bench in front of me to the aisle seat right next to me. He flopped himself down, spread his arms and legs out, and began stinking of stinky man's cologne. (I've also mentioned that I'm sensitive to smells.) Oh well, I thought. I'll eventually get used to his smell, and well, he wasn't that big, so his spread-eagleness really wasn't that annoying.

Most of the times I sit with my head cocked to the side with my window seat arm/hand holding it up. By doing this, I can keep a slight eye on the person next to me or just move my eyes slightly away and not notice them at all. I was pretty tired going home, so I head-cocked earlier than normal. The man next to me was reading a magazine, which he continuously flipped the pages of until we hit about 15 minutes into the BART ride. Then the flipping stopped. And then the arm jerk happened (people tend to jerk when falling asleep -- if you haven't noticed it, pay attention). Then the magazine slip happened, which caused the man to wake up and put his magazine away. He sighed and settled into his snooze.

And soon, his body began to sway towards me, then jerk back, then sway, then jerk back. I hate this. It's the most awkward thing to go through because I really don't want to have some stranger leaning against me as they sleep. Nor do I want to inform said stranger of this fact. I want to be invisible girl with my invisible shield of protection from strangers. What I don't get is why they don't sway the other way (I know, arm rest). Sway that way and fall out of your seat for all I care. And there are people who are chronic swayers. And they should realize they are chronic swayers and either fight to the death for a window seat, sit on the handicap bench or just stand up so that everyone else won't have to wonder when the chronic swayers will finally fall on top of them.

Granted, there are a few aisle sleepers out there that can sleep without one single sway. Not sure how they do it. I'm not sure I could do it. I usually have to head-cock towards the aisle; then running the risk of some stranger walking by me and smacking me in the head with a bag or something.

The man finally got off a few stations later. And I was finally free from the swaying.

This never ever works for me!!!

A long time ago, I was advised that if I got to the Montgomery Station and the Dublin/Pleasanton train was coming before the Fremont train, I was better off taking the Dublin/Pleasanton train and then transferring at Bayfair to the Fremont train. I would save about 6 minutes of my commute. Whooppeee. So I never do that. I'd rather wait for the Fremont train and have smooth sailing (and sleeping) until I get to Fremont.

So tonight I got to the BART station, and there were delays to the East Bay. They were only listing two trains on the overhead signs -- Dublin/Pleasanton ("D/P") and Pittsburgh/Baypoint ("P/B"). D/P was next, P/B was in 15 minutes. That means the Fremont train was either lost in the middle and they weren't listing it for some reason (this does happen), or it was coming after P/B -- after 15 minutes.

Did I want to risk waiting for 15 minutes? And risking having to get on the D/P train anyway?

So I decided (after being stuck in a mob of self-professed "non-commuters" coming from some conference) that if the D/P train came, and it was fairly empty, then I would just get on it. And then at Bayfair, I should get on the Fremont train coming from Richmond. Therefore, I would be saving myself some time, and I would get to sit down, and most importantly -- I would get out of the mob of conference attenders who didn't understand the concept of a line and who were currently surrounding me and chattering like little birds.

The D/P train came, the conference attenders got confused and almost got on this train (then I would of had to make a quick decision about not taking the train), it was pretty much empty, so I got on. My favorite type of person sat down next to me -- the type of person who smells like they don't shower but aren't B.O. stinky. It's more like a dusty, musty smell. I hate that smell. I'd almost prefer a B.O. smell. At least with B.O. you know the person doesn't care at all. With the musty/dusty smell, it just seems like the person didn't shower that day and thought they could get away with it. I was hoping she would get off the train before I had to, but she didn't, so I was stuck next to her until Bayfair.

At Bayfair, I got off and looked at the overhead signs. The next Fremont train was in 13 minutes. Waaaaiiiiitttt a minute. 13 minutes? And it's 9 cars? That sounds like a train coming from San Francisco if I ever read a description of one. That's definitely not a Richmond train going to Fremont. Sigh.

So I ended up waiting 13 minutes to take the train I could have taken directly from San Francisco. And for those of you who don't believe me when I can figure out which train is coming from which city, the same stupid conference attenders who surrounded me in San Francisco got off this train in Fremont. And I got stuck behind them walking to the escalator. Groups of 3 or more people really need to realize that you simply can't walk next to each other. You must buddy-up or leave someone behind.

When I finally got downstairs to the station, I had to swiftly maneuver around one of the men in the conference attenders group because he thought it was perfectly fine to step off of the escalator and then just stand there waiting for the 10 other conference attenders to group around him. Basically getting in my way and everybody else's. But hey, they NEVER take the train during commute hours. Lucky them.

The sound I hate most on BART

Besides screaming babies and talkative teenagers, the sound I hate most on BART is:

Fingernails being clipped with a nail clipper.

Clip! Clip! Clip!

Oh, the agony....

How stupid can you be?

Scene:

Pittsburg/Baypoint train just started leaving the station. I was first in line to get onto the next train. I was reading and listening to my iPod.

The train slowed down and then stopped. It was about one-quarter of the way in the tunnel.

A lady came out of no where and stood next to me. I kept reading. She then got right next to the train and stood there. I was eyeballing her from the side. She reached over, knocked on the door and looked in the direction of the front of the train (if you could even see it -- again, it was in the tunnel). She continued knocking on the door. I continued eyeballing her.

Did she really think the train operator would open the doors at this point (if he knew she was knocking on the door...)? What was wrong with this lady?? Not to mention if the train jerked forward as she was knocking...the gap isn't that wide, but it's wide enough.

The train slowly moved forward. She stood there and stared at the train in disbelief. How dare you, you train, not open your doors for me!

I am special!!!

She walked away to go wreak havoc somewhere else.

Do I feel safe?

Let me just put it this way, I do not understand how having BART police wander up and down the train, peering in the windows and doors while at a stop, is going to help me or anyone else feel safe. I also don't think having a BART employee wander through the trains is going to stop anyone from doing whatever they feel like doing.

I know they're looking for abandoned bags and backpacks, but come on – some people are seriously sick and would gladly give their life up for whatever nutty cause they believe in. And what about a bag stuffed under a seat so that no one can see if from a peering angle or by walking down an aisle?

I don't mean to be negative about what BART is trying to do to stop something from happening, but I seriously doubt it will. Perhaps just having the BART police presence is enough.

My husband found out about the London bombings after I did. I found out before I left work yesterday morning. When my favorite news anchors on Channel 2 told me to expect 10-minute delays if taking public transportation, I thought, Uh oh. When I saw how serious their faces were, I thought, UH OH. The next news segment was about London. I don't know what I thought then. Too many things to think about.

When I was at work, my husband called me and asked how I was. He sounded really concerned. I told him I was fine (nice to be asked every so often, isn't it?). He said that I must not have watched the news this morning. I said I did, and I saw what happened in London. He wanted to know if BART was doing anything different. I said they had more cops wandering around in the SF stations, but that's about it.

When he got home from work that night, he asked me if people were talking about what happened in London. On the BART train, that is. I just looked at him and said no. I thought to myself, is that weird that no one was talking about it? Do people on BART generally start conversations out of the blue? No. Why would this be any different? People on BART will talk to each other in two cases: 1. When something happens at that exact moment, and 2. When someone makes someone else mad. That's pretty much it. Haven't I said it's every person for themselves?

I think my husband was bothered that the BART riders weren't communing together to discuss how we'd kick some terrorist butt on BART. But who are we? Do we even pay attention to what's going on? And when we do, do we even do anything? (Read my very first blog post and you'll get your answer.)

So this morning, I paid attention when we got to SF (this was after almost not waking up on time...that hasn't happened in a long time). We were stopped at Embarcadero for a longer time than normal. There was a BART cop walking the length of the train opposite mine. He was peering away. Then a BART cop walked by the door of my car, so I guess that same thing was happening to our train. Then a yellow-vested BART employee walked into our car from the car behind ours. I'm assuming he walked the length of the train from back to front. I looked at the people around me as this was happening because people tend to get antsy when the train doesn't leave at the normal time.

It was kind of eerie. I wasn't the only one looking around. Everyone seemed to be looking around at each other. (That is, with the exception of Red Haired Guy, whom I haven't seen in a month, I think. He was in front of me (go figure – I told you he hates me) reading his newspaper.) So now are we all paranoid? Was that person looking at me a bit longer than they should have? Do I feel more safe?

No, not really. Although I do appreciate the thought.

Bombings in London

Since almost everyone I know knows I take BART to work, I've been cautioned to "be careful" because of the train bombings in London.

How, exactly, does one "be careful" so that they don't get bombed on a train?

Just a thought.

Another moth

About 2 or 3 times a week, when I take the later train in the morning, this gal seems to always pick me to sit next to. Granted, it took me a few times of sitting next to her to realize she's the same annoying girl that sits next to me, so I would think by now she would realize I'm the girl she keeps deciding to sit next to. No one's that oblivious. Especially when you pick the same seat week after week.

I was really tired this morning because I didn't get very good sleep the past two nights (4th of July fireworks across the street from our bedroom window sounding like guns going off right next to our window, and wondering if I was stuck in commuter hell today or not because of the BART strike). I fell asleep pretty quick this morning on the train, but I woke up a bit when someone sat down next to me. I didn't bother looking. I was too tired. Must sleep.

I woke up when we just left West Oakland, so I knew I had about 7 minutes of snoozing left while going through the tunnel. Back to sleep. The train slowed down, and I woke myself up and told myself to stay awake. That was when I noticed that the person sitting next to me was the same gal that has been sitting next to me a few days a week, each week. She sits with a huge backpack on her lap and reads the newspaper. So the first time I had to ask her to let me out, I was thinking it was going to take forever because her bag was so huge. Didn't take forever, but it wasn't quick either.

So you'd think (or I would, at least) since she keeps sitting next to me, she'd know that Montgomery was my stop. And if you didn't know that it was my stop, then you'd at least get that it was my stop based on my actions (gathering up all my stuff, sitting like I'm ready to leap out of my seat, a bit wild eyed). But no. Not this gal. Every single time we get to Montgomery, I have to ask her to move. And she's getting kinda feisty for my liking -- getting kinda huffy about the whole thing. Like I'm inconveniencing her. God forbid you'll have to move quickly with your massive backpack and newspaper.

Here we go again this morning. To me, it was apparent that I wanted to get off at Montgomery, but she just sat there, all snuggled in, covered in all her stuff. I asked her to move, and she very slowly got up and moved to the side so I could slip out. I'm getting rather annoyed by her, so I almost knocked her over while getting out. Come on -- you want to sit peacefully reading your newspaper while you have a 100 lbs on your lap? Then move when a bench becomes free. Leave me alone.

So tomorrow it looks like I'll be sitting on another bench. I just want to see if she follows me, and if she does, then she's my new nemesis (I will then call her Backpack Gal). I just don't understand people who bring so much with them on the BART train and don't have their quick-like-a-bunny exit plan at the ready. And no, I'm not going to ask you to get up as soon as the train pulls into the station. No way am I allowing myself to bounce around the BART train while it tries to stop just because you need more time to drag yourself up and out of the seat. You sit next to me, you play by my rules!

No Strike!

Wow. What a week and it's not even over yet.

First, my parking situation is back to normal, and I now have even more places to park in my favorite parking lot in the front. Seems any empty spot where a car could park and another car could drive by it without scratching anything turned into a parking spot.

Second, at a bit before 3am this morning, the BART strike was averted, and I happily rode the rails of BART this morning.

What does this mean?

First, I have 23 dollars worth of ones in my wallet for my pending bus rides. I almost considered taking the bus this morning just because I had the funds. Nah.

Second, I'm still waiting for my Translink card to show up. I should have about 200 bucks on it at this point. I'm still pulling out money every other day to buy a BART ticket. Cha-ching.

Third, We're back to the normal BART stories! Or any other story I feel like writing about.

Normalcy is a wonderful thing. Maybe I'll get some good sleep tonight.