The train was super-crowded yesterday on the way back. It was late, fifteen minutes late, because of some signal failure somewhere coming from New Haven. Still, being late doesn't explain why I found myself jammed packed in the car with people occupying every bit of standing space. It was the most crowded I have seen. I think it's more because there weren't that many cars.
Today the 7 train was giving problems, though small compared to some other times. When the train station was within sight as I was walking toward it I could already a lot of people on the platform. That was a bad sign. Something was wrong. I was right. I ran anyway, and when I was on the platform, the train that I usually missed was chucking by and firing its horn indicating that it wasn't going to stop. There were vocal and visual grunting that I heard and saw from the fellow passengers. The train after that was the train I usually took, and it came a little late.
A little late can mean a big delay because it might mean I miss the Metro North train to work and would have had to settle for a local train that would take me in the office more than 20 minutes later. It's not really a problem for work, but it's sort of a waste of time given that I get up so early just to get in more than 20 minutes late. Luckily, with some running, I was able to catch the commuter train two minutes before it departed.
There is no point getting up even earlier because you're at the whims of the transportation gods. Commuting using public transportation means that you have to deal with "signal problems" of all kinds, and problems of many more kinds. This is in addition to having to spend so much time on the train. Nevertheless, if I have to commute, this is still better than driving, which is truly, for me, a time-sink. I can't do anything but sit and drive, even if there's no traffic. I can't imagine most people, including those who like driving, enjoy driving as a means to commuting. I think that if people had a choice, if public transportation were more available and affordable, people wouldn't care much for the "freedom" of driving. True, driving means you can leave when you want, not have to time yourself and rush to the train lest you must wait half an hour or an hour more, as is the case in most places in this car-oriented country.
So here I am, sitting instead of driving, so I can write this entry now and not during the precious hours I have in New York during the workweek. I am tired because I had about six hours of sleep. What was I doing? Monday I get to go through my bills, cook, and just hang out with myself. I didn't even want to call my friends because I knew I wouldn't be able to give them the proper time. When I saw my two closest friends from New Haven on Sunday, a surprise, I realized I missed them a lot and at the same time I haven't thought about them as much as before. Last night one of them texted me to see if I wanted to chat, so in the end, I called and we chatted briefly. Mostly we talked about my latest adventure, which wasn't really an adventure. It was short and simple and over. I realized talking to her that what really annoyed me about this woman that ended up only staying at my place one night was that what she did was very restimulating. She was my sister's age and she was hooking up with a guy twice that age. The last major drama was also about a woman choosing someone much older over me. I didn't even feel I liked this girl from last week, but just that she so quickly jumped onto this old guy without letting anything possibly start with me just annoyed me to no ends. So I told her off, in the end, and that I didn't want to have anything to do with her again. It isn't meant to be a punishment; just that such person isn't good for my life.
I realize I am becoming more selective with the people I want in my life. And that's a very positive development. For most of my adult life (God knows also my child life, too), I never had filters. I welcomed everyone in my life, and that, in retrospect, isn't because I am open minded, but rather, it's because I always want people to be around, to like me. I welcome them to my home, that is, my soul, with the hope that whoever they are, they would stay. Even if they are mean to me, even if they are negative, stressful, a downer.
Now, I feel I have the dignity to say, if you don't treat me right, you can't come in, or you get out.
Last night a little before I made the phone call way after my bedtime, a friend said "hi" on g-chat. She's that Polish woman, wanting to know how I was in New York. I was brief with my answers. She was the first disappointment in my life that I consciously ejected from my life, although not as explicit and dramatic as the later ejections. I was annoyed she starting chatting with me. I could still remember every bit of her behavior, how she tried to make me be part of her life but not give me what I wanted, how she was flirtatious but also mean when I got too close. But she also reminded me that I have come a long way in terms of preserving my own dignity. I have stopped talking to her and while I try to be friendly to her, I don't miss her. My life is better without her, without people who don't participate in the happiness I seek. And so I have little doubts about what I did with this young woman that ended up choosing someone twice her age instead of me. As my friends have told me over and over again, when a woman chooses someone else over me, I should count myself lucky that I didn't end up with such a woman who obviously didn't know better. They are being my friends, of course, but there's some truth to this.
In addition to cooking and baking and talking to my friend, I also wasted some time on Facebook. After I uploaded some nice pictures, I usually get inundated with comments, and I can't help but reading them. I have to confess, they boost my ego. I like my photos, and it seems that some of my Facebook friends like them even more. This time my ego was doubly boosted because a professional photographer, who lent me the lens that I used to make the pictures, told me it wasn't her lens that made those beautiful pictures, but me. A pro told me that!
She and I are slowly becoming friends. I have to be careful, though. She's a drop-dead gorgeous tango dancer and very sexy, and I would end up in a whole swampful of trouble if I have feelings for her. Still, it's nice to connect with her, not to mention learning photography from her. If I can be friends with this woman, there's some hopes for me. I mean, sometimes I think all I think about is getting into a relationship and forgetting the simple human connection. To become friends with a beautiful woman is almost as hard as becoming friends with a man, for me. Different barriers but the root of the barriers is the same: desperate desire for a relationship. If I can be friends with someone I would not blink to go on a date with, I might have some hopes of being just a normal human being, after all.
The train is pulling into the stop before mine, ten minutes away. After all this running I will get into work the time I want, after all. Most people here are dozing off, including the two flanking me, the three in front of me, and if I have eyes on the back of my head, probably the two behind me. Another day starts. I have a lot to do. But I am sure I will take a nap in the bathroom again.
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