Why we blog

Yesterday evening started with your average episode of your average after work special: Girl goes to gym, Girl is too hungry to finish her run because she was too cheap to buy some food to nourish herself and hence hasn't eaten since lunch, plus Girl is really tired because she had improv until late last night and so she only got like five and a half hours sleep.

Girl is sweaty as she walks to the train station so girl now has icicles growing out of her temples and possibly down her spine. Girl is SO hungry, SO cold, and SO tired. Girl wants to get home, eat dinner, and fall immediately asleep. Girl takes elbow to face in the line for the train, but eventually gets herself a seat. She begins to read.

The back of the DVD makes this sound like a REALLY GOOD episode. Let's watch it!

(Tableau scene from back of DVD sleeve with Girl reading unfreezes, and the episode starts)

So I'm trying to read but I'm sitting across from Mr. Pringles. Seriously he opened a brand new can of Pringles and is at least half way through. He eats them in bunches of 4+. And there are crumbs all over his chest. Gross me out of town.

The train should have left 10 minutes ago but they said they're experiencing mechanical difficulties. But we should be leaving in just a few minutes.

The train should have left 20 minutes ago but they said they're experiencing mechanical difficulties. But we should be leaving in just a few minutes.

Mr. Pringles, having finished the can, is now loudly licking his finger tips. STOP IT.

The train should have left 30 minutes ago but they said they're experiencing mechanical difficulties. But we should be leaving in just a few minutes.

The train should have left 40 minutes ago but they said they're experiencing mechanical difficulties. But we should be leaving in just a few minutes.

"We're sorry for the inconvenience passengers, but we're going to actually have to switch trains."

Oh COME ON. Everybody leaps to their feet because we know that many of us won't get a seat when we switch trains. I start feeling elbows in my side and glance down to see a 5 footer getting aggressive. I think to myself "just because you are willing to use force if necessary does NOT mean you are getting off this train and onto the next on before me!". As well, I am eager to leave the side of Mr. Pringles, who left all his garbage and wiped his hands on the seat.

I give Elbow Lady a taste of her own medicine and find myself a seat on the new, hopefully functional, train. I call home to be told that so many trains are delayed and broken down that it was being mentioned on the news! (Dear Go Transit. Purchase some functional machinery. From Lisa)

After another 10 minutes on this train waiting for our turn to exit the station (are you seriously telling me there is a wait list? Don't we all have our own tracks?) I realize that in the brouhaha of fighting to get off the old train and on the new one, I left my gym bag behind.

I jump up (my seat taken VERY immediately) and try to make my way off the train. I figure I have a better chance of finding it now myself than calling the lost and found department when I get home. People are very rude and huffy and "uh, do you think there's room over here?" "Please, I'm just trying to get off. I left something on the other train"

I find my car's conductor and tell him my troubles. He asks, "What was in the bag?"

Here is what was actually in the bag: my favourite lululemon shirt, a towel, pricey running shorts, my FAVOURITE pair of undies, 3/4 empty bottles of shampoo and conditioner, face wash that costs more than face wash should but really does the job, the only hair gel I've ever owned that doesn't leave my hair crusty, new mascara, my hair brush, eye makeup remover, a full bottle of moisturizer, and delicious smelling deodorant (scent: Asian pear!).

Here's what I told him was in the bag: "It was my gym bag but I have jewelery in it!!!!". I doubt that a gruff train conductor would understand the monetary value and emotional attachment to either trendy and well fitting workout gear or really any item that comes from a pharmacy store. (I consider raising the stakes by saying "It was my wedding ring, and I JUST got married two months ago!" but one lie was enough and plus I am often mistaken for a tenth grader.)

He calls the conductor of the old train, who comes and get me. I search the car I was in, but can't find it. Why would somebody take it! It's items that probably total about $200 to replace, but are worthless to anybody else. Who wants a wet tank top, even if it did originally cost $60!

As the conductor gives me a "sorry, miss" and writes down the lost and found phone number for me, I realize I also didn't spot Mr. Pringle's refuse that he so inconsiderately left behind in the train. Somebody MIGHT steal a gym bag, but who would steal garbage? I realize the train must have been turned around when it was taken from the station to the fix-up house. So since I left it in the 3rd from the front car, I should be looking in the 3rd from the back car! I tell the conductor this, but he says he really has to go.

Now, I'd love to blame Mr. Pringles and the Elbow Lady but we all know it's completely my fault. And so as I leave the fix-up house to go back to the train station, I start to cry since I have nobody to be angry at except myself.

Sob, really. The kind of crying where my mouth takes a rather unattractive position and my nose starts to run. I keep trying to tell myself this is a stupid thing to cry over, but I REALLY LIKED THAT SHIRT. And I shampoo every couple days and condition once a week so that I go through these items less quickly. (This isn't gross because I always have my hair in a ponytail, don't worry). What's the point of sacrificing hair sheen for months of you're just going to lose almost full bottles anyway!

Of course the other train has left, and Go Transit doesn't have trains after 7 (Dear Go Transit. You're a moron. From Lisa. P.s. Seriously. Buy some working trains) so I head over to the bus terminal. As I stand in front of the schedule, switching from 24 hour clock to normal people clock, a guy hears my sniffling comes over to me, asking, "Are you alright? Is there anything I can do to help you?"

I say, "I'm fine, but thanks." He says, "Are you sure?" I say, "I'm moderately certain".

And then, because that was so ridiculously cool headed to becoming from somebody with dried salt on her cheeks, I laughed. Which of course caused boogers to splash out of my nose. Annnd now I'm the freak of the bus terminal.

I get in line for my bus. The lines are offensively long (I guess lots of people wanted to skip the troubles of the train) and again I worry about procuring a seat. Actually, taking a look at this line... will I even fit on? We're about to start loading on the bus when somebody cuts in front of me in line.

Look, I'm tired of pushing and shoving. If I don't fit on this bus, I'm probably going to gorge at McDonald's then fall asleep in the middle of the road because being run over by a 12 wheeler truck is preferable to trying once again to get on a stupid bus.

"Hey, the back of the line is actually over there" I guess he's pals with the guy who was originally in front of me, because they make eye contact and start laughing. I say, "I'm actually not kidding" and guy 1 says "here, I'll let him bud me instead then, and then I'll just bud him back. So nobody is ever cutting in front of you in line, we're only cutting each other" and they laugh again. With snot still ebbing from my nostrils, I loudly yell "NO CHINESE BUDDING" which is a term I haven't used since grade four. My tone was effective and the line cutter went to the back. Annnd now I'm the freak of the bus line.

It was in this moment that I became conscious of the fact that I was writing a blog post about the whole escapade in my head the entire time. I realized that you, gentle freaders, are going make comments like "noooooo I really hope you get your bag back that SUCKS" instead of, like my mom "why do you buy such expensive products?" or my dad "it's just a gym bag..." And really guys, it really settled my dry sobs down to start composing this post in my head. IT'S LIKE YOU WERE THERE. I LOVE YOU GUYS. Annnd now I'm the freak of Blogoland.

Of course, then I realized that I DON'T EVEN HAVE A HAIR BRUSH ANYMORE and the happy moment was over.

This morning I checked the lost and found and was told that items rarely get returned until mid-day, and that I should check after work. So if you're the hoping/praying/sending positive thoughts type of person, please add "Lisa getting her shit back" to the list that also includes "That homeless people everywhere find shelter", "That a cure for cancer be found", and "Peace in the Middle East." Because this is obviously equally monumental. Thanks.

(Stay tuned for tomorrow's episode wherein Girl realizes she knows nothing about buying hair products!)