09.09.04

Yay! I'm a volunteer for Oregon Literacy, Inc. I'll be working on their newsletters, and I start next Monday. I'm looking forward to it--getting out of the house, feeling like a useful person, interacting with other people, and writing. Yay!

Today, after a feverish twenty minutes of trying on and discarding clothing (Could I be more vain?), I dashed out of the house. Up 217 to the Sunset Transit Center and had wee jolt. The parking structure was full, or so the sign said.

"Pish tosh!" I said, and sailed into the lot. A good thing, too. There was a spot right next to the ticket vendor, just twenty feet to the train platform.

I bought my ticket, double-checked my route and headed to the platform. Of course I mis-stepped, skidded down two steps, and scared myself almost witless. No harm was done, thank whatever, and I settled on a bench.

Ach, it brought back memories of my days commuting in DC. Then a wave of patchouli wafted over the open-air platform. Honeychile, you ain't in DC anymo'. How can a person wear so much patchouli that it's too strong for the open air? A decent breeze was blowing too. If the varnish hadn't all ready been gone on the benches, I'm sure the stench would have done the job.

Hey, I like spicy, woody scents. Hell, I prefer them. But when you're causing paving blocks to buckle, birds to drop out of the sky, and your fellow humans to gasp and gibber for air...well...harrumph.

The train came, the patchouli-afflicted person got on another car, and all was well. I feel for the passengers on the other car. I wonder how many casualties there were?

Made it downtown, past PGE Park. There's a high school nearby, and it was lunchtime for the students. Seems that they have an open campus, and streams of liberated students swarmed the streets. (Oooo, alliteration--whee!) Watched a group of workmen watching a group of high school girls walk by. I kinda wanted to take a shower.

Then my stop, and boy-oh-boy, was I early. I wandered into Saks 5th Avenue. I shouldn't have done that. When I see a sweater going for what it's going to cost me to take one math class, I get a bit faint. I staggered out the door, past a man cleaning the glass. I thought; how much does he get paid per hour?

I wandered up the street to the Oregon Literacy offices. I met and chatted with the volunteer wrangler. We decided our needs and skills meshed and

TA-DAH! I got something to do.

I've got a bunch of old newsletters (both monthlies and quarterlies) to look at this weekend. There will be more to read on Monday.

Golly.

The trip back to the Sunset Transit Center was mostly quiet. There was a man talking AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS on his cell phone. He talked about this deal, that deal, and the ten holes he had to fix in the drywall. It was annoying. Then he said, "I love you too, Mom." Oh, argh. Just when I'd built up a good head of pissyness, he had to go and prove his humanity. Serves me right, neh? *laugh*

Dang.

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