Hint of spring

Oh sweet, warm breeze blowing back my hair, tugging open my jacket. It's March 2, and it's the first day to feel like spring. It always amazes me what impact weather can have on mood. Today, nothing bothered me. Absent-minded co-worker not getting the work done? No problem. Pants that fit just a little too snuggly? Whatever. It's a sunny day in Charm City, and I'm feeling great. Noisy little children on the bus? Today, they amused rather than annoyed. I especially liked the eighth grade couple getting in a few last cuddles before we got to their stop. The boy even said, "Come on, we only have a few more stops!" Oh to be thirteen. Well, maybe not. But the girl is totally adorable – I remember her last year as she went through an awkward phase and was all limbs and her pants were always too short. I know, mother nature totally let her off easy. Tall and skinny? Try being 14 but looking 10, and having that last through half of high school. Or talk to my sisters. We have some priceless photos documenting their prolonged awkward phase (think unruly curls and ginormous glasses). Anyway, this girl was awkward last year and now she's all poised in her cute wire frames and sassy haircut.

Spring does bring some challenges for the bus chica. This morning, I left my house around 5:15 to walk to the bus stop. Walking in the dark, I could watch my breath in the air. So, I was happy to have worn an extra down vest under my peacoat. My scarf proved to be much needed, as did the hat and gloves. I went without the usual long underwear – ah! Like shedding an uncomfortable layer of skin. Or a teenage awkward phase. I did end up wearing my hanging-on-by-a-thread boots. It took maybe five minutes to make my transfer to the City bus downtown, and it was a brisk 5 minutes. Definitely was not overdressed or over-layered.

Fast forward to 5:00 pm when I left the office. Oh the difference twelve hours makes. I didn't even bother putting on the down vest or the boots. Or the hat and gloves. The sun had been pouring through the windows all day. Even wearing just my coat and light-weight scarf, I had a light sweat going by the time I got to my bus stop (about half a mile walk). Praise be to the reusable grocery bag I'd tucked away in my desk. How else would I have transported all this stuff? I can't leave it at my desk because I'll most likely need to wear it all again tomorrow. *sigh* But what a small price to pay for more of this fantastic weather.

Heels on the Bus returns!

A happy, rainy Monday to all. Rainy days are a challenge on public transit (obviously!). There are just so many factors to contend with, one of the hardest being how schlumpy I feel in rain gear. I used to have a long, purple raincoat; but it was like a tent. I felt like a man wearing it. A man in purple, granted, but incredibly dumpy. Plus, it wasn't very heavy so on a day like today – February – it barely kept me warm. I do have a fun pair of bright greenish yellow mud boots that feel less dump-tastic, but boots do not make the woman or the outfit.

So what I've learned, after nearly three years of taking the bus, is that rare is the rainfall that requires full on rain slicker. Most days, like today, I can get away with wearing my wool peacoat and a hat. The coat is thick and the wool absorbs the drizzle. It has a nice, wide collar that comes up to my nose when I flip it all the way. My hat today is a rabbit fur blend, so all these animal products (wool + rabbit fur) seem to get warmer when wet. Roll up my pant cuffs and I'm in business. Umbrella optional.

The other downsides of busing it in the rain has to do with dampness, mud puddles, and smelly buses. It was raining on Friday morning – much harder than today – and the roadway on Charles Street (near the intersection with Pratt) filled up with water. This meant that even from the relative safety of the bus shelter some five feet off the curb, I got sprayed as cars sped through the intersection to beat the light. Jokes on them because that intersection has a camera and that jerk can be expecting a fine in the mail in a few weeks. It still is crummy – it's dark, it's wet, it's early in the morning. I do not want to use my umbrella to block rain coming at the horizontal from the roadway. Slow down and mind the pedestrians, jay-hole!

Smelly buses. Rarely is this a problem on the commuter bus, just the one day that the strange woman behind me slurped down some chicken wings … not to be confused with the time a different woman slurped down some hot wings on the city bus at 6:50 am. No, the smelly bus to which I refer occurs only on rainy days like today and typically only on the city bus. But it's not the city bus's fault. I blame the sweaty, agitated, hormone-confused middle schoolers who also ride this bus. Middle school kids smell kind of funny to begin with. My mom is a teacher's aide for a junior high, and I can't even begin to count the number of times she's had to have "the talk" with a student about wearing deodorant and clean clothes. So, they smell funny as a baseline. It's compounded by the fact that they like to run around after school to blow off steam. That means they are sweaty. It's raining, so you can't open the windows on the bus. There's more moisture in the air than usual because it's raining, so things get a little steamy (even if it's only 50 degrees outside). It's a potent brew. Sometimes, the smell lingers even on an empty bus.

What gets me thinking about it is this class that I took in undergrad for peace and conflict resolution all about stereotypes from the minority view. Sure, we all know the stereotypes whites have against blacks or Asians because white culture is the one reflected in the "mainstream" US. But if you're part of a sub-group in the US, you may have just as many stereotypes about whites as they have about you – they just don't know it because they're ignoring most of your sub-culture. Ramble ramble ramble. I swear this comes to a point. So in this class, we read this article that used the "white people smell like dogs when they are wet" example. I was guilty of being in that oblivious majority culture, and this was a total news flash to me. I now feel very self-conscious about it ten years later. Like when the middle school kids get on the bus and say, "Ewww. It stinks on this bus," I'm praying that the don't think it's me.