When Opportunity Knocks...

Something I've been learning lately, is that life is all about seizing opportunities. For most of us, great opportunities rarely come by, and when that door is opened, you must walk through boldly, or else condemn yourself to that haunting "What If..." reverberating in your head.

Ironically enough, I was thinking about opportunity on my commute this morning. My alarm failed to go off, so I woke up late, and was running really behind. It was also one of those days when I waited for what seemed like an eternity to catch the bus, and when it finally came it was pretty full. I managed to maneuver my way to the very back, and wedge myself into a seat. As we headed further South, the bus started to fill up more and more, until finally it was at it's capacity. People were crammed in like sardines, and it was at this point, two and a half stops away from where I get off to transfer, that I was trapped. There was no way I was going to get out when I was supposed to without causing a calamity. I had pretty much resolved to just stay on the bus until it got downtown and then just walk the mile or so to my office. But just then, a stop before mine, the woman sitting a few feet away decides she's not going to be taken prisoner by an overcrowded CTA bus...and she starts to barrel her way through the mess of people towards the door. This was it, it was my opportunity to travel along with her to that distant door in hopes of reaching the other side. I jumped up (or rather slid out) of my seat and followed behind her. She pushed and pulled and divided the people like Moses parted the Red Sea. My own raven-haired Moses in a black North Face fleece jacket.

I walked a few blocks to my other bus route to finish my daily adventure downtown to the office. Naturally, I arrived just as the express bus I would normally take pulls away, so I'm forced to get on the next bus (a non-express version that gets me to the same place, but takes twice as long to get there.) When I get on, the bus is relatively empty, so I get my choice of several seats. As I make my way towards the back, I almost don't see her...the cute girl from my guitar class is sitting along the window reading a book. I take a seat and debate whether I should get up and move closer in an attempt to talk to her.

Before I go on, there's a little back story here I think I should fill you in on. Last week at my guitar lesson, cute guitar girl (hereby known as CGG) came up to me and asked me if I take the 151 bus. I said yes. She then asked if i got off at the Roslyn stop to which i said yes, again. Then she told me she saw me that day on the bus, but wasn't sure if it was me so she didn't say Hi. I playfully called her a stalker, to which she kind of smiled, but kind of turned away like I might be a creep. (I know there is a short list of things you shouldn't say in front of a woman you barely know, and I realize that the word "stalker" is one of them. I just tend to talk before I think)

As I sat there in the back of the bus, I thought about all the things that had happened that day to put me in that seat, on that bus, at the same time as CGG: My alarm didn't go off, so I was late and had to wait for a bus, which would have trapped me had it not been for that woman who forged the way to the door. I just missed the bus I normally take only to end up 13 feet away from her. It seemed as though opportunity was knocking.

Casually I make may way up to the front and say hello. She cheerfully greets me back and marks the page of the book she's reading. We have a nice casual conversation about the weather, our guitar class, the city in general. It was a great "get to know you" conversation; something that after 8 weeks of barely being casual acquaintances we hadn't yet had the chance to do. Before I knew it, I looked out the window to see my office building as we approached my stop. We said we'd see each other later, and with a smile, I waved good-bye as I bounded out the door. It was like a scene straight out of a movie; One of those hopelessly romantic ones starring John Cusack or Sandra Bullock.

At least that's what could have happened had I actually gone up and said something to her. Instead, I sat there like a dope playing imaginary versions of that could-be conversation in my head all the while contemplating over and over again whether I should get up, or wait until she gets to her stop, accidentally running in to her on the way out.

In the end, I did nothing. Mr. Opportunity had opened door, and instead of boldly walking through. I nervously side-stepped outside of it until it was slammed in my face, and he called me a pansy.

The Day After Yesterday

It's that time of year again, folks. Another milestone come and gone.

For a lot of people their birthday can be a pretty depressing time. Whether it's that you're officially a year older, and another year closer to death, or just reflecting over your time on this earth, and realizing you haven't really accomplished what you thought you would.

While I definitely use my birthday as a time for reflection, I rarely get bummed out on the actual day. I tend to celebrate that I've made it another year. I embrace the phone calls and emails from family and friends new and old, hoping that today, more than any other day, is a great one for me. All the attention and well wishes makes me feel loved, appreciated, valued. It's an inexplicably warm feeling.

But then I wake up, every October 26th, and realize it's all over. The day after your birthday, no matter what age you are, is by far the worst day of the year. For one day, you're the center of attention, the thought of someone's mind, even an item on someone's to do list. The next day, not only are you not the topic of discussion, but you're the farthest away from that day than you'll ever be. It's just you, a couple of cards you've already read a half a dozen times, maybe a deflating balloon or two, and some stale cake.

Happy Frickin' Birthday!

Tennis Elbow

So exactly how sad is it that my right arm is sore from playing Wii Tennis this weekend?

PLOP!

Over the past few months, I've become annoyed with the design of public restrooms, particularly the one on the floor of my office. This restroom has a lot of flaws, but allow me, if you will, to highlight some of the worst of them.

1) Poor Ventilation. There's no reason not to have a powerful exhaust fan in the men's restroom. Not only does it help control the level of odor, but also maintains a nice cool temperature for maximum comfort while said deed is going on.

2) This bathroom is completely silent. If you happen to be in there at the same time as another person, you hear every trickle, splash, and flatulent release. There should always be some sort of music playing in the restroom, no matter how cheesy it is to help mask the sound of Bob from accounting getting rid of last night's Kung Pao.

3) Is there any reason that the stall doors of a restroom can't reach all the way to the floor? That extra 8 inches of door would really make me feel more comfortable while doing my business. I know it's a public restroom, but at least give me the illusion of privacy.

4) While the stall doors should reach the floor, the urinal absolutely shouldn't. The foot of the urinal should be no lower than knee height in order to minimize "splash back." If the base of the urinal is at the floor, you're at least doubling the distance the fluid needs to travel. It accelerates and becomes more chaotic until it finally reaches the bottom and splashes all over the place. If I wanted pee on my shoes, I can think of more creative ways to do it.

What about you, Internets? Do you have any bathroom pet peeves or horror stories you'd like to share?

October Mastheads