Valancy Jane

As it turns out, today was “Give VJ Pellegrino Day.”

I know, it’s fine, I didn’t know either.  I didn’t get you anything either.

I’m a little confused by it all.  I mean, the first one was just a nice thought from a coworker.  And I can understand if other people saw the bottle and said to themselves, “Hey, she likes Pellegrino.  I have one.  I should give it to her.”  I understand that line of thought.  But who carries Pellegrino around?  It’s not like they sell it in the vending machine upstairs.

I suppose I shouldn’t question it.

…. “finding out who your friends really are” like it’s a disappointing, disillusioning process.

But I’ve been pleasantly surprised.

….. I told him the truth, that I’d misdirected his call the last time because Neil Diamond was playing and that really I wasn’t even sorry either, because I couldn’t be expected to concentrate while “Delirious Love” was on and that I’m certain he understood.

And he answered breathlessly that he did understand, because he LOVES Neil Diamond.  Which might have been a coincidence, or it might have been proof of my theory that the more we expect to be understood, the more we are.

Expectations are powerful things, and I’ve got lots of them all of a sudden.

Somehow, of all the things he’s done for me, (and believe me, there have been a few) the fact that he likes me, and still always wants his bratty little sister to tag along, that’s the thing that means the most. 

I’m not sure he knows that.

But I suspect he does.

Valancy Jane: Be right back.

Coworker B: i’ll be B____

Valancy Jane: I’ll be ………….. Wow. Wanna know something AWESOME?
I can’t think of someone I’d rather be.

Every morning on my way to the train I pass the Mexican consulate and even at 6am there’s a line forming.

And it reminds me to be grateful for the accident of birth that gives me the right to live in the country I want to live in.

And I also pass a construction site, and the guys there remind me to be grateful for the accident of genetics that gave me my fantastic ass.

….. being told you’re beautiful at 6:12am just feels oddly intimate.

The man next to me on the bench paused, considering not just my question, but the possible roads I could be leading him down with my question.

Girls at train stations with white Styrofoam cups clutched in their hands generally want something.  But I guess I have a trustworthy face, or he was the adventurous type.  He bit.

“No.  Not particularly.”

“You see, I’ve lost Dixon.”  I held out my cup.  “The wind blew the cup over and all three of them went tumbling, with the leaves.  I found Mr. Frumples and Poinsettia Joe, but not Dixon.  And I know he’s around here somewhere, so he may turn up, on you even, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t squish him.”

He looked around.  “Ok.  I won’t.  But I suspect Dixon caught the northbound train a few minutes ago.”

“I suppose so.  He’s just so little though.”

“He’s off having adventures.  Let’s wish him au revoir, wherever he is.”

And so we turned, saying “au revoir” to the air in all directions.

And suddenly, I wasn’t so worried about Dixon, because maybe the universe will send him friendly strangers, like it just had for me.

Shuttle Bus Driver - *turns down the tunes* “So what’s your story, honey?”

Valancy Jane - “Uh, just not driving for awhile.”

Shuttle Bus Driver - “Great, so you decided it was bad for the environment and it’s just not something you should do?”

Valancy Jane - “Uh, yeah. …………………………….. And the DMV kinda agreed.”

Today, and for the next four months, I have no drivers license. I’m able to apply for a restricted license within a few weeks, that will enable me to drive strictly to and from work and classes.

Let’s not talk about that part anymore though, because this whole part of the system is beyond fucked up and it makes me sad.

Let’s take a cue from the shuttle bus driver and pretend I’m doing this for the environment. Or better yet, as research for a book. A book about the environment. “Green doesn’t always mean Go” or something.

On that note, this is the name of the gas station where I bought gas last night.

Yes, that’s really the name of the gas station.

Anyhoo. This morning I took the train, and what follows is a tale of great highs and lows.

I suspect my favorite part of pretty much every day is going to be the walk to the train. It’s a twenty minute walk through my neighborhood into downtown, through a mix of old brick and very modern art type buildings. In fact, I even pass the museum of contemporary art. I also pass the very best vintage clothing store ever, since 15 minutes after the dawn of time. (There was no vintage until that point.) It was closed at the time, but on my way home I stopped in and checked and confirmed it’s utter superiority. And then I got overwhelmed and had to run out of there before I yelled “I’LL TAKE IT!” to the cute little owner chick. “Take what?” “ALL OF IT AND YOUR DOG TOO!” So crisis averted. Barely.

When I got to the train station, I asked a security guard where to buy my ticket. He said, and I heard him clearly, “on the train.” So I went and sat down on the train. In chatting with a few folks on the train, I learned two things. The train was about to pull out of the station, and I needed to buy my ticket on the platform.

I jumped off the train, and ran over the machine, as the conductor announced that he was closing the doors. I wailed “noooooo” and he said, “forget the ticket, just get on.”

So I got a free train ride.

First one is always free, I guess.

It was a beautiful ride.

I brought a mug of tea and a Newsweek, to try and blend in and look cool.

I was surprised how quiet the ride was. You could fall asleep if you wanted to. Which this guy did. Unfortunately he was also the loudest snorer I’ve ever heard in my life. How he slept through his own snoring mystifies me.

I was carrying some pretty heavy bags under my eyes, myself. I just have not had an easy time adjusting back to California time.

See? Sexy.

Note how lovingly I am cradling my travel tea mug.  It was a gift from my boss. I love it so. More than my boss loves me after today, but I’m getting ahead of the story.

When I got off at the train station, I got onto the wrong shuttle bus. Got a two mixed up with a five. I knew I was going to be late to work now, but I decided not to call and announce it. See, we didn’t have any meetings going on until later, and considering that I’d asked my boss for a raise this week, I was hoping this whole being-late-because-I-guess-I’m-illiterate thing wouldn’t really help. Basically, I was just hoping to get away with it.

The driver of the shuttle bus that I was on was very sweet, and actually finished his route and then drove me to my work. Incredibly nice of him. But when I walked into my office, my boss was waiting for me. D’oh.

“I got on the wrong bus.” Try saying that out loud. Feel like a dofus? Yeah. Me too.

Not like he’s going to fire me over this or anything, but my raise? He’ll prolly just change a five percent raise into a two percent raise, since apparently I can’t tell the difference between two and five.

When the doors opened on the shuttle bus back to the train station this evening, the driver smiled and said, “[Valancy Jane]?”

Turns out they have an inter-bus radio, and now every single shuttle bus driver knows my name, description, and itinerary. And they’ll all make sure I don’t get on the wrong one again.

Which is also incredibly nice, albeit in that way that cults are nice when they want you to join. I’m not entirely sure they aren’t a cult, or that I didn’t join. *shrug* Maybe I don’t care.

When I got to the train station, my debit card didn’t work (god only knows why, I’ve had more trouble with that stupid card) and I had to borrow five bucks off a coworker who thankfully happened to be on the platform. He also stopped me just as I was about to step on the wrong train, yelling my name in the tone of voice you use for puppies, just as my foot was about to hit the step.

I think I need to be babysat when it comes to trains.

And tomorrow, I get to do it all over again. Someone please come with me.

That’s sort of an update, sort of just bragging.