25 cents

A quarter is a quarter.

They don't mean much when they are some part of price tags that go through my credit card.

There are only two occasions when 25 cents mean a lot to me.

Firstly, it is when I do my laundry. I take doing my laundry seriously and I prepare for it

throughout the week. 

I collect my quarters. I do not use them away.  Even when I am buying a candy that is like 75 cents, I would use my credit card.

I found another occasion today, when 25 cents seem so much to me.

As I lost my U-pass, I have been paying for the bus/train fares since the beginning of this week.

Today, I got on the bus without knowing that I only had $1.75 on my paid bus card. 

It was snowing outside so I gladly jumped into the bus and put my card in.

A bus driver, in his low voice tone, told me to step aside.

I was a quarter short to be a passenger on this bus.

Gracefully, he kept on driving while I was frantically searching for a quarter.

Of course I did not have any cash on me.

After driving 2 blocks away, the bus driver told me to take my card back. I thought he was letting this one pass and I was about to give him a nice smiley face. Then he told me to 

get off the bus at the next stop.

Oh my goodness. I was about to be kicked out of the bus.

My searching fingers got even more desperate, and luckily I found my little purse for coins.

It looked like I had a 10 cent coin, a 5 cent coin and bunch of 1 cent coins. 

I could not tell whether they make up a quarter or not, but I was too nervous to count them.

So, I threw all of them into the coin box. 

In that split seconds, I was pleading the bus driver to let me stay on the bus.

He did.

I sat next to this person, whose smell was unbearable to my nose.

Forgetting whatever that was on my mind before I found 25 cents, 

I started complaining again.

I hate riding a bus.

Today, 

Jansen left me a message on facebook,

telling me to keep writing on my blog.

I have been feeling like I was talking to the wall, 

whenever I post something here.

I mean, I understand that people are too busy to read my bus/train stories.

It made me feel great to know that someone is interested in my stories.

I also felt great because I finally figured out what to do with my stories 

for the show next Friday.

Art begets art

Thanks Pate Conaway!

f**k

I did not know that the day after a snowy day was a day to avoid riding buses & trains.

I waited for the bus in the morning. I felt good. I had good breakfast. I was ready for the day.

The bus came 10 minutes later and 

as it it were teasing me, 

it passed right by me.

It was packed.

Then the second bus came, 15 minutes later. It was packed.

I didn't have any other choice than pushing myself into the packed bus.

There was a guy standing right in front of me. He was shorter than me and maybe for that reason

I felt even more uncomfortable.

I got off the bus.

I then went down to take take Blueline to school.

10 minutes later, the train came, packed. The door opened and there were these people

standing, starring at me, silently saying, " Don't you dare!"

I let that one pass.

I looked at my watch and I was very likely to be around 10 minute late for the class.

The second train came 15 minutes later, packed with people.

I tried to step in but the door closed right at my nose.

" FUCK!"

To my surprise, I said this dreadful word like more than I had ever said in my entire life.

I don't swear.

I mean, I occasionally say the S word when I bang my head or my foot.  But I don't swear.

And I said F-U-C-K this morning, in front of many many people.

When I had to let the third train pass me, I was about to throw a tantrum.

" F, F, F, F, F!"

I couldn't believe it.

I felt mortified for swearing so much in my life.

But I was even more embarrassed to be so late for the class.

I am a girl who swears now. I am very sad..

Hi Shira!

Yesterday 

on the bus, 

I bumped into the girl with whom I took a life drawing class together at UC Irvine.

Her name is Shira and she is an amazing painter.

What a small world!