I did take my written test recently and am in the process of getting my license, but that's besides the point. When I was going to school, I loved walking around and riding the bus. It was a small town, so my means of transportation were very feasible. Now that I'm back in the bay area, it's become harder to do what i love--walk and use public transportation. I try to use bart/bus whenever I can.

It brings me so much peace and happiness to wait for and ride the bus/bart! I swear, New York was designed for me!

Den 1 oktober kommer Spendrups att lansera ett av världens största premiumöl. Jag pratar givetvis om det amerikanska ölet Coors light!

Coors är ett av mina favoritöl i USA (Miller ett annat) så jag ser helt klart framemot att gå till systemet den 1 oktober :-)

Passar på att berätta om ett "coors minne" från USA. Jag och Challe var i San Francisco några dagar 2006. Inte långt från vårt motell hittade vi en pub kallad "Bus Stop". Puben blev vår favorit och låg långt från turistfällan "fishermans Wharf" så man slapp alla turister.

Ron som ägde baren tipsade oss en kväll om att vi kunde köpa en spann med 5 st halvliters Coors för bara 11 dollar. Billigt tyckte vi, så vi slog till, trots att det blev ganska mycket öl till oss var, och att vi inte var spiknyktra innan. 1,25 liter öl borde vi i allafall klara av!

När vi till slut druckit upp allt tänkte vi -att nu går vi hem... Men icke!

Ron ställde fram varsin stor drink på bardisken! Jag tittade lite förvånat på honom och då förklarade han:

Killen som just gick ut bjöd er på dessa, Ron pekade genom fönstret på en kille på andra sidan gatan. Vi hade pratat med honom kvällen innan och han tyckte vi var så trevliga och dessutom ifrån Sverige så han ville bjuda! Schysst tyckte vi men hur skulle vi tacka honom. 

Han var en stamkund! Så vi gav några dollar till Ron, så att han kunde bjuda killen på en drink ifrån oss.

/Andreas

I saw this driving home from Hollywood on Sunday and it made me laugh. How Los Angeles does nothing to help the stereotypes people have of it!

I'm guessing someone from the city or county will haul this away soon, but until then, bus riders have a more comfortable place to wait. And since AC Transit recently installed a NextBus screen at this stop, it should be easy to sit back, relax, and not worry about missing the 1 or 1R.

So, last month me and my coursemate Jackson went on for our first backpacking travelling to 4 3 cities (you'll know why I deleted 4 later). Anxiety and exciting, together we embark on a wonderful 15-day-journey.

June 11. My father fetched us to LCCT (Low Cost Carrier Terminal) at Sepang (we start to wonder why having the international airport SO FAR away from the city?! wth... took almost 1 hour plus to reach.. siao ler) After checking in we still had 3 more hours to go, so to waste our time as always we went to McDonalds! lol

My arse got numb! Siao 4 hours journey in the plane, this is by far my longest air flight and seriously I was really tired (and hungry...). We were so excited when the pilot annouced that we were going to land!! Woohoo!! But landed at the Shenzhen Airport means our trouble started. How to get to our hostel from the airport? Haha... Langgar here langgar there... We managed to get an express bus and taxi and finally reaching our dear dear Youth Hostel by 10pm!! Haha... So glad that we were there and first thing after we put down our thing was to eat!!!!!! Seriously we tried several stuff (but didn't manage to take photo because it was late and we didn't dare to bring our camera together lol) TELL YOU WHAT ... ... THE 双皮蛋奶 dunno what you called in English is DAMN NICE !!! By far the best !! (even Hong Kong and Macau also cannot fight!! haha...)

 everything looks so nice!! lol .. and cheap also... RMB150 double room...

June 12. Maybe too excited. I couldn't sleep well yesterday and so I woke up very early this morning. I realised that in Shenzhen the sun rises early too!! Haha...

After a simple breakfast, we went to the city to find for more stuff!! lol

 Taking their subway.. can fight with Singapore's oh!! Can see my name? “文明”means Boon Ming “礼让”means offer seats to those who need it ... I'm so good .. hehe

Then I saw JUSCO !!!!

About noon time we 'accidentally' walked into a bookstore and the books ARE SO CHEAP~~!!!! We even browsed the books til out of our schedule... ;P haha... Realising the heavy error we had done we quickly rush back to our hostel to have our lunch and proceed to the highlight of the day!!

 My lunch ... RMB4 if not mistaken.. X)

 SHOOPPINNNGG ~!! You must feel that we kinda stupid to buy all those because we gonna carry them all the way during our journey right? Why don't we buy it at Guangzhou? Guangzhou's books also cheap lar... haha... ... you will know later... COZ SOMETHING VERY VERY VERY WRONG HAPPENED !!!

 another "Boon Ming" .. lol

 their bus stop ...

So where were we heading? What was the highlight of our day?!!!?!

Stay tuned ... (got meeting after this lar... haha... you tot i want to make advertisement meh? haha...)

Tudo bem. Quase mandei Deus tomar banho, já estava me enchendo o saco.

Seria bom usar camisa xadrez em vermelho e verde, com uma calça marrom e uma botina preta. Passar o sábado todo jogando videogame e ler quadrinhos à exaustão. Mas a vida não é para sacanagens. A vida é coisa séria, séria demais.

Mas não me lembro o porquê dessa porra.
Por que desejaria vomitar num cachorrinho, por mais esquisito que fosse? e por que de uma madame?

Madame me lembra velhinhos, e eu amo velhinhos. Amo idosos. São heróis. Os velhos são heróis para mim.
Ontem mesmo, na padaria.

Uma senhora que segundo percebi na conversa já poderia estar aposentada, comemorava ter passado para um concurso público.

E concurso bom. Disse ter passado para o têjota e também para um outro bom emprego público.
Vai  morar no rio.

Até mesmo de velho crente eu gosto. Consigo suportar. Entendo suas palavras.
No morro em que moro tem um coroa que é diácono.
Em  todo domingo que encontro com ele no buzão de meio-dia é a mesma história:
Um despejar de versos bíblicos sem sentido, fora do contexto.

Então, por que vomitar na madame?
(vomitar no cachorro dá no mesmo)

My grandmother was in her eighties when she told me that story.  She was not tall and not slim, her comfortable plumpness belying her words.  Grandma Stephanie became a grandmother late in life at the age of sixty-six.  Perhaps this was not surprising since she’d not become a mother until she was thirty-four, and her only child was a son.  

“How I loved to dance,” she declared.  

“What is it like to be a ballerina and dance en pointe?” I inquired.  

“As light as a feather,” she assured me, beaming.  

Even at the age of ten, that statement didn’t seem very probable.  I had never heard anyone else say that grandma was a ballerina.  But then, my grandmother was a great storyteller.  She had a natural gift for it.  

I remember a picnic we had once:  She and I, my sister, my father and a friend.  It was a beautiful early summer day and we had come to see the racing at Goodwood in Sussex.  I remember lounging on the woolen blanket we had spread out in my cotton summer dress, leather brown sandals and white socks as my grandmother told her stories.  When she was on form, there was no one funnier.  Oh how she made us laugh!  And she was only talking about something that had happened to her the week before.  Her tales were not light and fantastical, but grounded in the realities of being a widow in 1970s Britain:  A person with a small income, who never learned to drive a car, and as a consequence had many interesting encounters at bus-stops. 

But my grandmother’s storytelling abilities knew no boundaries.  She would repeat her stories so many times she was no longer sure what was true.  And when I realized that at the age of fifteen, I was scared.  I wanted something to hold onto in my life.  So I try to have it both ways, like controlling a chariot driven by two horses, with one hand on stories and the other on the truth.  

Top image: My grandmother in 1975 at the age of eighty.

Bottom image: My grandmother as a young woman.

–Cynthia Haggard writes short stories, novels and poetry.  During the day, she is a medical writer and has recently opened her own business.  For more on her creative writing, go to spunstories.  For more about her medical writing services, go to clarifyingconcepts.  (c) 2008. All rights reserved. 

But what about another structure that meant a great deal to many others? The National Library building was home not only to books and media archives but also childhood, growing up and adulthood memories for many since 1970. It was where fantasies came alive during storytelling sessions; where inquiring minds thrived; where friendships were forged; where students slogged; where families spent time together; where love was ignited and dreams were conceived. Are these not just as precious?

Reality bites. I am inclined to conclude that it is not really about conserving memories and heritage but economics and convenience. The land on which the bus stop stands is no where comparable to the real estate that was freed by demolishing the library. The former is in the suburbs and the latter is prime property in the heart of the Historic District, next to a museum.

Historic District. Therein lies the irony. A historically significant building had been reduced to rubble to make way for a traffic tunnel in an area where history matters. You can still savor history in colorful postcards or boxed-up exhibits displayed in the National Museum, but you can no longer live it out by experiencing the spaces or touching the actual bricks and mortar that made up the real thing.

Ouch.

Thanks to Chuck Shepherd's "News of the Weird". Picture credited to another blog, but appears to come from "thisisbroken.com". ]]> http://oneneatthingaday.wordpress.com/?p=473 Fri, 27 Jun 2008 08:28:39 +0000 shanoah http://oneneatthingaday.wordpress.com/?p=473 I can sympathise about the dentist, Sean. There are a couple teeth I really need to have a dentist look at, actually. I keep missing making an appointment.

Pity I've already played "Dentist", from Little Shop of Horrors here.

Anyways, time to revisit the 60's yet again. What can I say; I've been enjoying hunting up old music and posting it, so hopefully all of you have been as well.

Green Onions - Booker T. & The M.G.'s (1962)

Who hasn't heard this classic groove? This is probably the most popular thing they've done...

Bus Stop - The Hollies (1966)

The opening of this song is so classic. Besides, I have an affinity with bus stops, relying on public transportation myself.

She's Not There - The Zombies (probably 1964)

Thought it was worth pointing out that the Zombies had at least one good song besides "Time of the Season".

If I can find a find a song other then the bands most well known song, I often prefer to play that instead, to make things interesting, and this was the Zombies first big hit. There are exceptions, obviously.

At least, these books found a home. Another bus rider took the High Adventure novel. By the time I returned home, the Clancy novel was gone.

Although I don't recommend leaving stuff and hoping that someone will take it, I'm glad that someone got the books. Leaving books on top of the newspaper rack is littering.

50%, première mise en ligne par bogers. ]]> http://bicroute.wordpress.com/2008/06/23/missing-man-formation/ Mon, 23 Jun 2008 21:52:37 +0000 kerkev http://bicroute.wordpress.com/2008/06/23/missing-man-formation/

missing man formation, première mise en ligne par bogers.

Waiting for godot ?

A recent photograph of a Honda Accord parked at the bus stop, near Metro Adlabs, in South Bombay. The guy who was in the car paid ten bucks for the parking, which left me speechless. So yes, the new bus in Bombay = Honda Accord? :D

Meta deatils:

This morning as I was waiting for the bus again a younger woman walked into 1369 Coffee Shop.  As she was walking towards the door she passed an older woman and her dog.  The dog barked at the younger woman who shrieked and dropped to the ground.  *note: the dog did not bite her.  The younger woman picked her (overly dramatic) self up off the ground and screamed, and I quote, "Fuck you! Your dog scared me!" to the old lady.  Can we be a little more dramatic?  It wasn't even 8am yet. 

I love Inman Sq (seriously).

"X-Ray"
by John Reuben

Broken reality, there's no means of escape
Broken reality, lookin' to leave this mind-state
But the more that I leave, the harder it seems I come back
Now I'm livin' out these lies that I call my trap
And I call it that cuz I didn't do this intentionally
What I now call my trap I used to call my fantasy
And why do I fantasize in order to leave the reality
Of not being able to relate personally or socially?
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be respected
But until then I'll dream about bein' accepted
I wonder what it would feel like to be respected

All wrong, no right, no one, no sun, no light
This life, this fight I'll hide inside
No matter where you go, you cant escape whats inside.

Man somebody get me out of this place
Of loneliness, hopelessness, depression, and disgrace
At this pace I'm on the verge of self-destruction
With nothin' to go on but my self-instruction
So what does that leave me?
I try to communicate with the world
But none of you out there could perceive me
So instead of words I began to express through actions
So anger n rage become my mere satisfaction
Hate fills my being I'm seeing no means of release
So I escape into my fantasy where I live in peace
Here I can be anybody I want to, here I can be anybody I choose to
Here in this place I feel good there's no restriction
This place is so good that it's becoming my addiction

I say I'm not lost, but why am I searching?
I say pain don't faze me, but then again why am I hurtin'?
I say I won't show emotion, but yet
I cant hide these eyes that have been stained by tears
I say I can't be held back, but yet
I've been in the same place for years
I say I wanna go free, but something keeps me bound
I say I wanna go higher, but my feet haven't left the ground
Man, I told y'all I didn't care,
But then again why is my heart so heavy?
I told the world to bring it, but deep down I knew I wasn't ready
I said I couldn't be deceived, meanwhile I'm
Walking into the same old traps
I said I couldn't be broke, as I watch my world collapse
Watch my world collapse

No matter where you go you can't escape what's inside
No matter where you go you can't escape what's inside
No matter where you go you can't escape what's inside
No matter where I go
No matter where I go
No matter where I go

Haha, once again a song completely unrelated to eating disorders has been sucked into the Eating Disorder Playlist of My Head. This song talks about being stuck in a trap but how the trap started out as a fantasy. How it wasn't done intentionally. How no matter where you go, you can't escape what's inside.

My ED didn't start out as a "fantasy" but it definitely is a trap I didn't realize I was getting into. And as I was listening to this song, I paced in front of the bus stop. The last lines really struck me. I'm out, doing things, and I still can't escape what's inside. No matter where I go.

From "You Have What I Need"
by Hawk Nelson

And I don't want it, this confusion,
I don't want a false solution.
Give me something to hold on to,
I want what you have 'cause you have what I need.

I know it's hard to be yourself when
you're not sure just who that is.
All I wanted was satisfaction,
but all I got was empty fists.
Can you hear me?

My ED is such a false solution to the chaos and issues in my life. It gives me something to hold on to, but every time I think I have a good grip, it slips. I wanted my life to be orderly and to make sense, and of course, to be thin. But All I got was empty dreams and lost hopes. And I can't even just leave it all behind and just learn to be myself because I don't even know who I am anymore aside from my eating disorder. Such a sad realization.

First Day's Work

and i also missed my stop and had to backtrack due to daydreaming and people watching. had a good evening.