Just a smattering of the dialogue in my life.  You know, kinda like a soundtrack, because I fail at music.

*     ~     *

Diablo Vista graduation speaker: Over the past three years, I have grown so much academically and physically.  When I entered 6th grade, I stood at a solid 4-foot-8.  Since then, I have grown 8 inches…

*     ~     *

The mother of the 8th grader I tutor: I wish I had a son, so then you could be my daughter-in-law.

*     ~     *

Lee Mama: Hm.  Your legs look longer in that skirt.
Lee Papa: Naw…still short.
Lee Mama: We’re talking about Cindy, not your legs!

*     ~     *

Lee Mama: So, are you seeing anyone?
Me: No.
Lee Mama: Why not?
Me: There just isn’t anyone I’m interested right now.
Lee Mama: What are you looking for?
Me: Well, you have to have a connection, and then you see how they treat you, and their friends, and their family, and what they want to do with their lives, and where they’d want to live, and…
Lee Mama: You think too much!  When I married your father, I did not know he wanted to leave the country!

Coming soon, to a theatre near you:

May/December Personality:
the tale of a forty-five year-old hen occupying the body of a twelve year-old boy

Cindy: Mrs. Bennett

Millie: Jane Bennett

Allie: Lizzy Bennett

Priyanka: Lydia Bennett

…which makes Justin Mr. Collins!  Ha!  Who else can be assigned a convenient role?  Hm.  I’ll have to think on this.  That’s okay.  I should be constructing a quiz for my children, anyway.

Yes, that’s right.  Twofer!  (Two-for-one.)  Why?  Because the second adventure nipped at the heels of the first adventure, and the disparities (and sad similarities) between the two simply must be presented together.  Stephe, now that I know you read this, I must say: I tried to post that OJ entry sooner, but something went wrong with my technology.  We’re back on track now.

I am fortunate to live in a city that is on the BART line.  Mik and I have discussed the relative merits of public transportation (mostly) nationwide as well as (a little bit) internationally, but that is a post for another time.  I have spent countless hours on BART during my going-on-nine years in the Yay, most of which were accrued during this school year.  And so, without further ado, I bring you Two Bart Adventures.

Preface

Thursday night: Prohibition Party at Aquadelt.  Stay over at Elaine’s place (Theta).  Katharine steps on me in the middle of the night, but all is otherwise well.  I have a quiz the following morning, and then Brittany schleps me home to get de-ickified.  (In my defense, I wasn’t that icky.  But, I didn’t shower at Theta.  That is all.)

Part I

Nancy hosted Taco Fiesta Night (there were tacos to eat, sangria and tequila to drink, and Nancy/Matt/Matt’s Sigma Pi bros to accompany) on Friday, so I headed back up to Berkeley after undergoing ritualistic hygienization.  At Lake Merritt, a young man was looking at the timetable.  I noted Greek letters on his sweatshirt, the sleeve of which bearing an embroidered “US Army.”  We’ll call him Kevin, because, well…that’s his name.  As the Richmond train pulled into the station, he asked if it was the right one for Berkeley.  I nodded the affirmative, and we hied ourselves aboard.  I sat down, he sat down in the row in front of me, and across the aisle sat a mother with a child next to her, two children in the row behind her, and still another child in the row behind them.  Oh dear.

The mother+brood offboarded (note the BART terminology) at 19th Street, but one child’s zip-off hood lay on the seat.  I dashed after them and handed her the hood.  Upon my return, the young man said, “Wow, people are so friendly up here.  In soCal, no one would care.”  I half-heartedly wished I looked cuter that night, but since I was all bundled up (it was cold!) and wearing my glasses, I shrugged at such girliness and smiled back politely.  (Recurring trend.)  Eventually, we got to talking though.  Mundane things like…

Him: So, how many more stops are there?
Me: Three.
Him: *checks mobile*
Me: Oh, you’ll have reception at the next station [MacArthur]
Him: Whoa, you read my mind!

We discussed why we were each BARTing to Berkeley…

Him: I live in soCal, but I’m up here for work.
Me: Oh, for what?
Him: Military intelligence.
Me: Cool.  In Dublin?
Him: Yeah…and I figured I’d visit some friends in Berkeley.  So what are you doing?
Me: Well, I went home for a bit, but now I’m going back up.
Him: Oh, going out tonight?
Me: Naw.  I went out last night, so my friend and I are just gonna chill tonight.
Him: *half smirk* Hungover?
Me: Oh please.  I do not get hangovers.  [KNOCK ON WOOD]

And then…

Him: You’ll have to show me how Berkeley girls do it!
Me: Ha!
Him: You should take me to some Asian parties.
Me: Um.  I don’t really do that…
Him: Oh?
Me: Well, Asian sororities scare me…
Him: There’s gotta be a story behind that!

[Insert story of the night Mik and I ran into drunk Asian sorority bunnies.  Like, dressed in bunny costumes.]

Me: And Asian frats were never that appealing to me.
Him: I guess I’d better take my sweatshirt off, then!
*oops*
Me: Wait.  Explain this to me.  Army…and fraternity?
Him: Well, I’m in the Reserves.
Me: And otherwise…?
Him: I go to U$C.  [ew]

There were some undercurrents.  Nothing overt or sketch, but just some talk of how his plans for the night weren’t yet finalized, what were my plans, &c.  Really, it was a pity that a) I wasn’t feeling cute [I know the point was that he thought I was cute, but the flirt muscles weren't working, okay?  Not that they ever do...], b) he was only up for the weekend, and c) I already had plans.  I did give him a chance, though, at the end.  Walking out of BART, I asked, “Are you sure you aren’t going to get lost?”  He could have responded along the lines of, “Well, if I do, can I call you?” or something like that.  Nope.  Instead…

Him: Well, thanks!  *Hug*
Me: ???

Part II

I stayed over at Nancy’s place that night.  It was good.  Margaritas are good.  Sangria is good.  Tequila is my friend.  The next day, we went to Fat Apple’s for brunch.  PUMPKIN PANCAKES.  Hurrah.  Then, women’s basketball game against the ‘furd.  *Sigh*  It was an exciting game with an unfortunate outcome.  Interesting diversion: I was invited to try out to be a Mic Man.  As we walked home, we got rained on.  Bummer.

So, back to BART.  The man sitting near me said something.

Me: ?  *Eyebrows scrinched*
Him: Oh, I was just testing you.  That was Korean.  I like your glasses.
Me: Thanks.  *Polite smile*

I returned to my book (Pride and Prejudice, don’tcha know?), but he kept talking to me.  Seriously?  Note that, at this point, I was still all bundled up and wearing my glasses.  In addition, I hadn’t just gone home to shower, and keep in mind the drenching.  Suffice it to say, I was not in top form.  Not even middling.  Just before his stop he said, “So, maybe we could do dinner sometime.”

Me: Oh.  Well.  I’m really busy.
Him: Too busy even for a phone call?
Me: You know, with school and everything…
Him: Well, hopefully, you won’t be so busy the next time I run into you.  And, you should learn Korean.

And he peaced out.  WHAT KIND OF LINE IS THAT!?  You should learn Korean.  Yeah, if I’d like to get beaten.

Moral of the Story

Don’t shower, and get asked out!

Morning chill hasn’t vacated your bones, and there is toothpaste in your hair, but you don’t care, because you’re in love.  You’re in love with the one who holds the toothbrush while you squeeze out that last bit.  Can it be called the dregs when it remains stubbornly trapped in a squeeze tube?  You’ve got a partner in crime and in finessing toothpaste, and isn’t it just so delightfully prosaic you don’t even remember the tequila nights deriding love for being so domestic.

Don’t hang up your be-ribboned heels.  Don’t trade in that sleek chariot.  Trading toothpaste duties shows you’re in it for the long haul, but that glitzy romance makes the Love-O-Meter lights, camera, action.  Maybe just the lights, but hey, the camera and action are fun, too.

Whitening and bacteria-killing foam clings to your hair.  You have never been as lovely as you are at this moment.  Tomorrow, you will be beautiful, for the sun will shine on your sophistication, but today?  You glow because you’re in love.

Abandoned for the moment while author searches for toothpaste love, glitzy adoration, and warm socks.

CINDY: How do people fall in love? I don’t know.

VARSHA: I think my mom wants me to get married. But really, I just want to travel. Or get drunk, or both.

CINDY: Maybe you could combine them.

While it would be extremely gratifying to say that studying assiduously for final exams has rendered me LOOPY, I must admit that I am in a constant state of loop.  Adding to the havoc wrought by procrastination into the wee hours is the fact that I wrote of loops many times on my biochemistry exam today.  I don’t think my answers made much sense, but I assure you, loops formed by base pairs are a common phenomenon!

 On that note, much gratitude to Varsha for her fastidiously kind entry re: our friendship.  I think we’ll leave it at that, because the two of us could never stop at a maximum of words in celebrating our mutual esteem.  I must hasten away to study some biology, whilst pondering the trickiness of boys and communications with them.  Fanny Price, my butt!

My results! okay movie, awesome coat…

-Varsha

Your Score: Elizabeth Bennet

69% romance, 56% sauciness, 41% etiquette, 71% intelligence

You believe in true love and standing up for yourself. You’re also witty and reasonably well-read. What you don’t have time for is kowtowing to society’s expectations of you. So what if your hem gets a little muddy? Let the neighbors click their tongues! You’ve got better things to do. Like dressing down that tall, snobbish gentleman in the corner, or traveling ’round Derbyshire, or chatting with that pleasant young officer, or nursing your older sister back to health, or trading witticisms with your father, or keeping your crazy little sisters in line, or….. Ideal matches: Mr. Darcy, Captain Wentworth, Colonel Brandon Guaranteed heartbreak (their hearts): George Wickham, John Willoughby, Captain Benwick Not worthy of your affections: Mr. Collins, Henry Crawford

Your Score: Fanny Price

64% romance, 50% sauciness, 50% etiquette, 63% intelligence

Still waters run deep. You’ve got plenty of intelligence and more heart than you get credit for. But you never say a word when insulted, and this reticence sometimes allows others to assume you’re a pushover. You’re also a bit shy in mixed company, which leads those who don’t know you well to accuse you of snobbery. They couldn’t be more wrong! You just never seem to know what to say. Of course, the meek shall inherit the earth…eventually. But do you really want to wait that long for redemption? Ideal matches: Edmund Bertram, Edward Ferrars, Captain Benwick, Colonel Brandon Guaranteed heartbreak: Frank Churchill, John Thorpe Not worthy of your affections: Henry Crawford, John Willoughby