i missed the bus

I miss busses every day. I have to take two separate busses to getfrom my place to my school--the bus trips aren't long, it's just that London is a mess of streets and it's rare you take one to get to whereyou want. And the busses are the old double decker style, and usuallyfun to ride unless you've had too much to drink. Nonetheless, bussesmust be caught, and i am an expert and how not to catch busses. Part of it is inattention, part of it is obsessiveness. I would sit at abus stop and record every time and bus number if i didn't have ahundred things to do. Usually, one of those things is actuallycatching the bus. Missing a bus uually makes you feel like you are losing time. Time out of a schedule that is crafted, not by you, and not necessarily by a higher power, but by the world as a whole. In the complex system ofthe world, you had a place, and it was on that number 29 bus that just whisked past you. You can usually even watch them pass by. A visual marker of your inability to flow with your own program.

And this sort of thing happens all the time, not just with busses. Meetings, mail calls, TV shows, trains, dates, friends' parties, salesat H&M, double features at the cheap theatre, late night exhibitionsand due dates for presentations. Sometimes i get it right, and iremember to unlock my cell phone before i get the bus to the train tothe plane to Italy for the weekend, to see my parents and to give themimportant mail. But sometimes i miss. I think it's inevitable. Ithink anyone living in a city will only get 60% of it right. At best. I never really felt this way in St. Augustine. I never felt therewas a bus passing me by that i was missing. I don't mean thismetaphorically. I mean, there is nothing operating, really, to tell you if you're on time or not. My life there was, show up for work,leave work, relax myself until i was feeling unstressed, and then work on a project. Do it again. It wasn't so much that it wasn't a busylife; it was more that i never had to feel like i was/wasn't doing theright thing. Anything was ok, because "nothing" was so pervasive. I realize this is starting to sound like gibberish, but it's late and there are loud girls saying "Oi" next to me, and they won't fucking shut up.

I got a Chinese girl drunk today. I'm proud of that. Me and my greek friend, Demitrius, took out Mai Cheun and ordered her beers. It's officially a secret, but Chinese people are fucking hilarious drunks. Not on purpose, of course.