How I survived the Mayan Apocalypse and all I got was this lousy calendar

According to lots and lots of content on the internet and television, some long-dead Mayans supposedly said that the world would end tomorrow, 21 December, 2012. If that’s the case, this may be the last blog post I ever write. I guess I better make it memorable.

But wait, not so fast. I have some news, doomsday devotees. The Mayans may have been very good at many things, but predicting the end of time- not so much.

Is it the end of the world as we know it? Really, who actually believes that the world will end because some ancient Mayans said so thousands of years ago? Apparently a lot more than you would ever have imagined. Seriously. There are people all over the world who have been in a panic for the last few weeks. Some people just can’t resist a juicy conspiracy theory, a cryptic apocalyptic prediction, or the rants of some religious zealot. I suppose those people are either really weak-minded or perhaps they are extremely bored and want some excitement to spice up their dreary lives. I just don’t understand the allure of it all.

Here is what I want to ask those people- Since when did Mayans become experts in prediction? What else do they have to show for their expertise? Excuse me, but isn’t their civilization, uh, extinct? And to be very blunt, if they knew so much, where are they now?

Incredibly, it seems that people all over the world are losing sleep, and their minds, over the “impending doom” and prediction of our collective demise. But the details are a little shady and sketchy.

Before we throw the Mayans under the bus and accuse them of predicting our universal demise, let’s get the story straight. According to a segment on NPR, the Mayan prediction has been played up by the media and is completely wrong and erroneously reported.

Maya expert, Professor David Stuart, of University of Texas at Austin, told NPR, "The Maya never, ever, said anything about the world ending at any time — much less this year. So, it's sort of bizarre to be living through this time right now, when so many people seem to be worked up."

And worked up they have been- for a few years!! So now, Dr. Stuart tells us that there is ANOTHER date predicted. Come on! And why should I believe the Mayans anyway? Look what happened to them. Perhaps if they had been smarter about predicting their own demise, I might have more faith in their predictions.

To be fair, the Mayans aren’t the only ones who have predictions about the end of time. Remember that lunatic Christian guy who said the Rapture was coming; and then it didn’t so he had to recalibrate the date; and then it didn’t happen- AGAIN. Well, he blew his credibility, but it was too late for the hundreds of people who believed him and gave away all of their earthly possessions. ***crickets***   I know. It’s pitiful. For some more apocalyptic stories, check these out- http://www.npr.org/templates/archives/archive.php?thingId=132629051

I guess the long and short of it is that NO ONE truly knows when the world will end. It is baffling to me that people are so intrigued and obsessed with something that is almost entirely out of their control. For goodness sake, worry about the things you CAN control in life and do something about them. Getting wrapped up and actually feeling anxious about something so completely unknowable and without real evidence is, well, a little bit - looking for a nicer word – unstable and childish.

 So chill out, enjoy the final days of 2012, but stop fretting about zombie apocalypses, predictions from ancient civilizations, or doomsday prophets who tell you to sell all your stuff.  The end is NOT nigh. Enjoy being alive for another day and for as many days as you have left!!  If all else fails, STAY CALM and avoid Mayans.

The Day I was called “The Devil” on a Metro bus: More stories from “The Bus of the Damned”

I have been in a creativity slump recently, mostly due to frustration, exhaustion, and an increasing apathy that has sucked the life out of me. (I will go into the reasons for this recent situation more at a later date.) But today, the universe threw me a bone, or I should say, my infamous “Bus of the Damned” did.

As I have noted in previous posts, my daily commute can be quite “challenging”, which is a polite way of saying, hellish. And speaking of hellish, that is the perfect segue into the main gist of this post. On my commute home this evening, some woman had the enormous audacity to call me, “The Devil”. REALLY? What the hell! And I wasn’t even wearing Prada!

Just so we are perfectly clear, here is how the situation transpired. I boarded the bus, just as I always do, and it is my custom to sit near the front because when I sit in the back I can smell the fumes and it always gives me a headache. Also, on many older buses, the motor is very loud in the back. So I sit in one of the seats in the front which look like this-

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now the buses in the front have these rails to hold on to and they block part of the seat, so a person sitting in that seat doesn’t have as much room. It is more like a half seat than a full seat. Often, if the bus is not crowded, I will sit next to that seat.

On this particular ride, there were plenty of seats. I was sitting in my usual spot and up comes this woman of large proportions, and she stands RIGHT in front of me and expects me to squeeze over into the half seat so she can squeeze in. I just look at her and she says, “Can I sit there?” KNOWING FULL WELL that she isn’t going to fit into that half seat without crushing me, I choose to rise and go across the aisle

and sit in another full seat. No big whoop. BUT THEN I HEAR IT. It was faint, but unequivocal.

 

“You’re the devil”, she says.  I look up, with utter confusion, and say, “Pardon me.”  She repeats it,“I said, You’re the devil.”

 

I am instantly angry, confused, insulted, but partly amused because it is so absurd. I can think of a dozen REALLY MEAN, nasty, crude, rude, insults to bestow upon her, but I choose to take the high road and say, “Whatever, Dude.” She got the message.

 

So, that’s my story, and I’m sticking with it. I have a BUS full of eye-witnesses, many of whom chimed in once she departed the bus to assure me that they didn’t believe for one moment that I was the Prince, or I guess in this case the Princess, of Darkness at all.

Poor little me! What was my heinous act? That I gave up my seat? That I made a face because I didn’t feel like being crushed like a sardine in a can when there was a perfectly fine EMPTY seat inches away from both of us. Was she upset because she felt that I had somehow slighted her? WTF?? I don’t know. All I do know is that calling a person a devil or THE DEVIL should, by all standards and accounts, be saved form something a BIT more serious.

I am sure Beelzebub is quite miffed that a middle-aged woman, traveling home from her thankless job, in the midst of stunned suburbanites traveling to their little homes, on the “Bus of the Damned”, was given such an infamous title, AND FOR WHAT?

So, in my mind, I was thinking all the way home- WHAT IF I actually WERE this Devil she accused me of being? What would I do to her? That was a deliciously evil 20 minutes of thought going through my mind. I am absolutely certain she would have had a different response. As I told my fellow passengers on our motorized purgatorium, I would have evaporated her in a puff of smoke. I’ll bet that would have fixed her little red wagon.

Public transportation really is like purgatory. You have to endure the worst in people. Their cranky moods, their frustration, their lack of manners and situational awareness for what is going on around them. The incessant, loud talkers who don’t know or care how much their voice carry when talking to another rider or on their cell phone. The people who spread out like they are perched on their living room couch. The people who play their music so loudly through their headphones that you can hear all the words to the song they are listening to.

The list goes on and on and on and on. It is enough to drive a person crazy, and maybe that is the problem. Some people aren’t able to manage their stress and they snap at the slightest hint of insult. Maybe I have a devilish look about me. Perhaps I am too transparent, or maybe I am just too nice. It is probably a combination of all those things.  Whatever it was, it made a great story, didn’t it?

Could it be God, the universe, or the Dark Lord himself is trying to tell me something?Maybe this ongoing saga on public transportation will become a book one day. I have always dreamed of writing a book, but I never imagined that it would be about a topic so banal. Alas, sometimes we don’t choose the topic, the topic chooses us.

Stay tuned for more stories from… cue the eerie music… “THE BUS OF THE DAMNED”.

PLEASE FEEL FREE to share YOUR favorite commuter hell story in the comments section.

Time spent in Purgatory- also known as- My daily commute on The Bus of the Damned

Yes, that is a dramatic title, but lately, my public transportation experiences are beginning to feel like Purgatory. I have been writing imaginary prayers in order to stop myself from snapping at people, or actually becoming one of those stories you read about while riding on public transportation.

Because I don’t believe in re-inventing the wheel, so to speak, I FOUND an amazingly accurate website which has done far more work than I plan to invest in this topic. I HIGHLY recommend you view it in order to capture some of the look and feel of what I have been encountering lately. I would rather ride with these guys.

The website is called- Transit Freaks.  Before you think I am being harsh or cynical, please don’t judge me unless you have been forced to be SQUEEZED into a metal tube and pressed up against someone you don’t know, as if they were your most intimate partner or your spouse.  That’s called the METRO. The "wonderful" joy of riding Metro, and that is a whole blog by itself, is like the most dysfunctional person in your family. You can’t live with them, but if you work in D.C. and don’t want to pay a mortgage-like parking fee every month, you can’t live without them.

Metro is a great idea with LOUSY execution. It is a hot mess. Sometimes literally. Mercifully, I only have to travel 3 stops to my office. Believe me when I tell you, those 3 stops can seem like an eternity if you are sitting next to the wrong person OR if you are crushed in the aforementioned situation.

Sadly, many commuters don’t have basic hygiene as one of their strong suites. Having Halitosis Harry breathe on you for three stops can make 15 minutes seem like 15 hours. Summer is so much worse than winter because you may actually have skin to skin contact when the weather is warm. Ugh. Hence the prayers.

Example:  Our Lady of Perpetually Smelly Travelers, please help me to hold my breath without dying until I reach Gallery Place. Amen

You see where I am going with this. Here is an example of the expression I have when I experience the damnation each day

The Bus of the Damned is another story. I have compiled a short list of SINS that my fellow damned commit on our lovely bus and ask sincerely that you look introspectively and ponder whether you are guilty of any of them:

1. Thou shall not talk on the cell phone so loudly that others are forced to listen to your personal business.

2. Thou shall make sure that you are not listening to your music so loudly in your headphones that your fellow travelers know every song on your ipod.

3. Thou shall remember not to wear cheap, stinky, aftershave or perfume. Your fellow travelers do not want to vomit on other passengers.

4. Thou shall remember to bathe and brush teeth in the event that you will be close enough, AND YOU WILL, to other travelers to breathe on them.

5. Thou shall not fall asleep on another traveler. No one wants to be your body pillow.

6. Thou shall not assume that everyone on the bus is deaf. WE CAN HEAR YOU and when you talk very loudly to another passenger or into your phone, it is annoying and rude. BE AWARE of your surroundings.

7. Thou shall not shake your wet hair, umbrella, coat or belongings on a fellow traveler. Again, BE AWARE OF YOUR SURROUNDINGS. We are all on this Bus of the Damned together. Do we have to make it any worse than it is?

8. Thou shall not take up two seats. Don’t take up valuable real estate by spreading out all your books, bags, or even yourself, so that you are denying someone else a seat. BE CONSIDERATE. The world does NOT revolve around YOU!

9. Thou shall be thoughtful, courteous, and polite. We all have to be on this Bus of the Damned together. Let’s try to make it as civilized as possible.

10. Thou shall not assume that anyone on the Bus of the Damned cares to hear about your politics, religious affiliation, sports team, or your rants about metro. IT IS A BUS, not a roundtable discussion. Zip it until you get to your office.

In closing, I want to say that I do encounter wonderful, kind, friendly, and normal people on public transportation too. Unfortunately, they are in the minority. I realize that public transportation is a very valuable part of urban living and I support it.

It is my sincerest wish that people could learn to be more aware of how their actions and behavior impact the people around them. If that happened, perhaps there could be salvation for those riders on the Bus of the Damned and the daily commute could be so much more enjoyable.

If you know anyone who is guilty of these commuter sins, pass it along. Maybe it is the hint they need to get on the righteous path.

Time is on my side

The Rolling Stones seemed to think so, but in reality is time really on our side? I suppose that depends on the person. Time seems to be on the side of some people more than others. And there are those people who tend to have a running battle with time. Time Management is a HUGE industry and topic.

The quest to manage time effectively and get the most out of the meager 24 hours we get each day. Subtracting the time we spend on sleep cuts us back to about 16 hours a day. Subtract again for the time we spend earning a living and then more time it takes to get to and from our workplace, we are down to a mere 6 hours. That doesn't seem like something that is "on my side" anymore.

Thankfully, I live very close to my job. I feel very sorry and am baffled by how those whose commute is more than 1 hour a day can bear it. I simply don't have the patience, stamina or will to spend my precious time sitting in traffic that could take an enormous bite out of my precious "free" time. But that's another topic for another day. I could rant on that for hours.

One thing that is absolutely guaranteed to set me off is lateness or lack of attention to time. Punctuality and time consciousness is a trait I admire as much as any virtue. Very few situations rankle me more than being made to wait,  or even worse, being in a meeting that goes longer than originally scheduled.

The assumption is that my time, and that of the other people in the meeting, is not important enough to be considered. Yeah, let's start the meeting 15 minutes late or let's go 30 minutes long. What's the big deal? No big whoop, right? WRONG! Sadly, in the workplace, you have to endure it because it is usually a supervisor who is the master of your time. BUT when a co-worker or peer does this, it isn't just rude, it's very unprofessional. It is enough to make me seethe. Especially when the person feigns sorrow or gives shabby apologies and then goes on to imply that they had some valid reason for their lack of attention to time management. Grrrrr!

Tempus Fugit is the Latin saying they put on the face of Grandfather clocks. As a child, I always loved seeing the little saying and wondered what it meant. TIME FLIES. And how powerful and true those two little words are. It really does most of the time, although not when you are in training or a painfully boring meeting. OR in traffic. But when you are doing something you love or sleeping, it surely does fly by.

I remember years ago seeing the book, "Time flies when you're alive" by Paul Linke, and how clever and deep that title was. And now, as I am approaching my 50th year of life, I am stunned to realize how fast it does fly by. All those clichés about time are still in use because they ring very true.

All in due time

Better late than never

In the nick of time

Marking time

A stitch in time saves nine

There’s no time like the present

Time after time

Time flies when you are having fun

Time heals all wounds

Time is running out

Time on your hands

The times, they are a changing

So, if time is an unrenewable resource and such a valuable thing in life, why is it so hard to keep track of it? Hey, remember, we only have an allotted amount of it and wasting it is really a bad thing! I am all for wasting time having fun, relaxing by a pool or beach or even just watching some cheesy episodes of the "Millionaire Matchmaker", but I don't want to waste my time waiting for someone else to get the get their time squared away. 

I get philosophical about it. Why is it so hard to consciously attempt to be mindful and not waste the most precious resource there is in life? I can only sumise that it doesn't come as naturally to some as it does for others. It must be harder to manage or keep a handle on for some people. Perhaps they don't see the value.

To me, it seems that one of the greatest luxuries is to be able to afford to waste time. You can't buy more of it! Once those 24 hours are gone in a day, they are gone. That's it. And think how many people could really use a spare five or six hours a day. Those who have to work two jobs or go to school or balance work and kids?

Balancing work and home life is one of the hottest topics in magazines, newspapers and books. I think more people need to really think about what they spend their time on and how maybe, just maybe, if they put it into perspective and made an effort to treat their own time, and that of others, with more value they would probably find better ways to manage it.

It is so ironic to me that really frugal people, who can't bear to waste a cent more than they have to, are often completely frivolous when it comes to wasting time. Hey, get a clue- time is money. Anyone worth their salt who manages a budget knows that. But putting it into practice seems to be an impossible feat for so many people. They are always running behind, late for meetings, late for doctor's appointments, even late for work.

Being overly optimistic is a fatal flaw where time is concerned. I think we should start teaching kids, from a very young age, that timeliness is as important as any of the other values they are taught. Good manners, clean hands and proper grammar are fundamentals for any young child, but what about the value of time management? Why isn't it valued more? Is it because it requires a kind of discipline and forethought that is becoming less important in our hustle bustle age? I just don't get it.

My Myers-Briggs personality type is ENFJ. The "J" is what keeps me conscious of time. I am speechless when people walk into a meeting 20 minutes late like it is nothing. I mean it still really gets to me. I don't get used to it. I try really hard not to be a judgmental person but I confess that I DO judge people who can't manage their time. It makes me think they are careless or thoughtless or unreliable. It makes me anxious. If they can't manage their own time, how am I supposed to let them manage mine?

Maybe it is an obsessive-compulsive trait, I don't know, but I take it very seriously. We all have our little "buttons" and that is one of my big ones. I have learned not to take it personally, but I am not to the point where it doesn't push those buttons. I am a work in progress and that is one of the things I still have to "live and let live" about.

Good, bad or indifferent- those are my thoughts and views on the topic of time. I am sure in the course of this blog, it will arise again. Time is a favorite subject of mine and I have lots to say about it. I would love to hear what others have to say about it too.