No shortage of crazies here.

I started work, so I have, of course, much to report on that front. I remember those crazy days when I was just a little intern last summer, and I started off every morning quite methodically: heat my milk in the little work kitchen, add my coffee, make my little English muffin...then check my email for a bit...then blog...and about 40 min after arriving at work, start...doing work.

Not so much anymore. I am not even a week old as an employee...and I have not a second of spare time. Not a second.

But, umm, work is great - aside from their tremendous stinginess with the office supplies which is putting me in the anger-inspiring situation of making an Office Depot trip to buy my OWN supplies (seriously, i can't even get a damn collection of pens and some f'in push pins).

I can't even talk about work b/c I'm still fully fixated on the public transportation experiences that I have pretty much daily. Funny, b/c just one day after I wrote an entry about the buses, I actually got kicked off a bus. Well it went out of service. There was a crazy dude in the front playing his harmonica and a crazy dude in the back talking shit to some young chicks and making them run their mouths about "yo mama" which escalated into a screaming match, and then the bus driver pulled over and told us if we didn't quiet down she was going to take the bus out of service. And they didn't shut up. So, we got all kicked off. That really happened.

Yesterday morning I happened to sit next to a guy who told me, in no particular order, about:
--The battle of Baryshonokov (spelling is wrong, I know) v. other ballerinas who are clearly 10 times better
--His own life as a ballerina
--His 16-year long bout with AIDS. Of course, he didn't have the disease until they administered him drugs. It was the treatment that gave him AIDS.
--And...how he cured himself of AIDS through a cleansing diet.
--And...how he wants to go on Oprah to tell his story.
--And finally, about some dude on the album he was carrying around who was a: "black guy who dresses up like a white guy who imitates black guys"

I then got hit on while filling my Bart card by some dude who insisted on my number b/c he just really wanted to take me out to dinner. I think he might also have been crazy.

Today, on my commute home, there was a self-proclaimed "Prophet" on my bus. He was trying to turn people off the bus. He was furious at the crowding on the bus. He hated "the White problem," the "Asian Problem," and hated "having all the sick people and the gay people and all them other people on this here bus mixing their space" into his space. He hated each and every one of us on that bus. He was miserable. I said a small prayer when he got off. I laughed, too, when he flicked us off through the window after exiting. Twice as great considering he told us "I wouldn't swear, I'm a Christian man." Gesturing "f u" is so Christian, don't you think?

Anyway. It's after 10, and it's nearing my new bed time, as I have to drag myself out of bed at the unGodly hour of 6:45am every day now. So, I'm going to bed.