This Was Edited And Posted After The Fact.

Hey everyone! Greyhound has free wifi, so I am VIRTUALLY cruising.

There was actually one seat left on this hub of a hot spot and it is right next to the toilet! How convenient... well, not right next. I have two heavy-boy-bookends, who have probably robbed something... like my personal space! It’s okay, though because I was so lonely in my early twenties, that now it just feels like soul mates. Also, it's a great exercise in being assertive, something I have never had an issue with.

me: “are you awake now?”

ex-con: “huh?”

me: “yeah, I’m going to need my seat back because my thighs are sweating too much by being forced so close together.”

x: “you got any R&B on your iPod”

me: “I have a little, why, you want to listen to my iPod?”

x: “yeah”

me: “you can’t.”

x: “why?”

me: “because it’s mine and I’m using it.”

Stop talking to me while I have headphones in, people!

So, you might think I am complaining- I am just illustrating that these people are out there. The terrorists need to know what to attack next. Hey TERRORISTS, you’re wasting your time trying to get back on airplanes... all the WORST people are on the Greyhound and there is absolutely no security! I am only telling you this, because I will never ride on one again.

Another strong point was that I was doing a show right after I got off the Greyhound that night and I was on the phone with my friend, who was picking me up, when I mentioned something about the show... Little did I know that ears are EVERYWHERE on a Greyhound, just dying to talk to me about MY LIFE!

passenger: “I couldn’t help but strain to hear your muffled, but brief conversation... did you say you were doing a show?”

me: “yes, I did.”

passenger: “what kind of show? What do you do- are you an actress?”

me: “a comedian.”

passenger: “COOL.”

Here’s the thing about being a comedian, I don’t want anybody I don’t know to know about that. So now, the whole back of the bus knows this about me to the point that I get asked "where are your smiles?!"

“OH MY SMILES?! Is my face an unpleasant backdrop to this joyously delayed trip in the heaven wagon?! Why, they must have been SQUEEZED out of me by the two beef patties in this backseat burger! OR they were fumigated out by the facilities half a midget away from me."

Speaking of small children, yes- one is screaming 3.5 feet away from me. How can I think?! I CAN’T and that’s how Greyhound likes their customers: mindless. So I am doing a fine job fitting in and luckily it's getting dark.

Outside the bus, during a pit stop, my future agent/ the inquisitive eavesdropping passenger is asking even more questions:

passenger: “are you famous?”

me: “no”

passenger: “oh, well you get paid, though.”

Not really, but I didn’t have the heart to break it to this star struck kid, who couldn't handle the reality of doing something for nothing while he was still under the impression that a famous person might be sitting behind him on a bus in the middle of Colorado. Only somebody who rides a Greyhound bus could possibly think that someone famous might be riding the Greyhound bus.

Anyway, a 2 hour and 50 minute bus ride is going on 6 hours, but at least I have a scarf to bury my face in when I see someone get up to use my bedside-public toilet. When I see someone coming, that's when I fart real hard, because- why not?!

I would continue writing but this 6'5' giant is reading over my shoulder and where his eyes go, his legs follow, so if I want to walk again I better shut this lap top... I don't think he can read so much as he is waiting for pictures to show up on this "book".

Namaste- Away From Me Right Now!

Oh boysies has it been a while (rhetorical). Mama (me) will write more when she gets her new laptop (by 2012!)... until then...

I do yoga by donation at a place here in San Francisco. I highly recommend this space to people who want to go to yoga, but are on a budget. However, I see where yoga has just turned into a form of Jesus on the plate of a cynical public, hungry for some authenticity and a little less "OM" (or horse breath). I felt like Carrie Bradshaw just then.

I go to yoga and have been for ten years... I even participated in a teacher training a few years back... did I decide to teach? No, because yoga isn't salvation (also I didn't pay in full, so was never really certified) and the people in it are no better (energy wise) than the Greyhound Bus Stop half way between here and the next Clan Rally. People who go into something like Yoga believing that breathing extra loud will give them some relief to what they're trying to drown out are really just like the homeless people they secretly despise- loud and yucky! This has been a huge statement lately- people SCREAM BREATHING. I bring my destructive friends so their back can get stretched and that they may feel the endorphins released by having a supple, stretched body instead of an 8-ball. After most classes lately, I know they are going right back to sauce and spice and I'm not talking Paneer, Slumdog!

I love an instructor who mostly keeps his or her mouth shut (not likely to happen with most women instructors, I know). Just guide the class and stop telling the same tired jokes you tell every class to help people escape from their discomfort. Stop trying to make this "better" for people- IT ISN'T! It isn't good for people, that's why we're here (yoga) and no amount of New-Age-bull-shit-chuckle jargon is going to make the experience more "authentic".

I suppose this is a bit of a rant, but I farted in yoga once... HA! Look- a funny little fart joke. I love going to yoga, but if I wanted to go to a comedy open mic- I would.... uhhhh, oh yeah. I go to open mics about 6 times a week, so NAMASTE away from the jokes and let me listen to my own breath for a moment. THAT is why I am here... and that is what experience I hope my friends have. Just be quiet and stop encouraging the entire class to express their breath with loud sighs and horse mouth... happy babies are quiet babies, so let's stop pretending they need to lion's breathe in a higher octave to get back to innocence.

Alright, Mama (me) is off to a comedy mic to tune out the same fucking jokes I always hear from people I should probably not like as much as I do and hopefully cultivate something new for myself.

xoxox

Abbey