Manic Monday

Last night was a late night and it wasn't drawn on due to studying. I logged onto Facebook, as I always do to end my day, to see notifications in the double digits...no big deal. I did my routine browsing of pictures to scope out all of the events I was pestered to make an appearance at that I chose -not- to attend, read my fan mail, and updated my Activities list (since I am involved with a founding Executive Board and all now) Just as I was about to quickly click the logout link the ever so familiar "pop" sounded. Oh goodness, a Facebook chat.

My poor. little. eyeballs. All the flash cubes had already strained them well enough, but having to keep them open and concentrated on these endless Facebook conversations was ridic. I don't have time for these people? I mean...I don't want to come off as a bitch, but really? I've got sleep to take care of. Anyway, after I finally cut the conversations down to my typical, "gotta run" (ha, because I always AM on the run...off to the crazed, glowing streets of New York one week and on a breezy, seaside shore the next) I was able to escape into my dreams for the night.

As of this morning things have been quite manic. I awoke from my short slumber in a realization that I had to get to my 9:05am class and fast. My escort service was unavailable because I usually schedule times for them to pick me up in advance, but my life has been so full of stardom lately I haven't had the time to make arrangements. Do you know what that means? Do you KNOW what I had to succumb to? Public. Transportation.

I strut out of my residence in my Martha's Vineyard sweatshirt, the low-key land of the filthy rich and famous, to wait for the......bus, ew. Surprisingly I only waited about 2 minutes until my bus of choice arrived. Slowly rolling it pulled up and the cattle shifted along trying to align themselves with the doors. Should it surprise you that the back door lined up along the curb of which I was standing? No, of course not.

I was the first to step on and was one of very few who was seated. Although I was given a place to rest the royalty that is myself I was not very comfortable. Yes I was seated, but my point of view was not pleasing. As someone who stands on the bus you're kind of up in your own world? You begin fighting your own arm strength to remain upright and not accidently dry hump those who surround you on those crowded, congested, herky, jerky rides. You are so focused on getting to your destination everything else is a blur. However, for someone like me who is seated you are often forced to face a certain tragic pair of cargo shorts, Sketchers, a patterned Jansport bookbag, the back pocket of someone's Mudd jeans, or perhaps an unfortunate case of bacne (ahem, that is acne on someone's back) BUT THE WORST OF ALL was staring face to face with a PALE LEG. Um, sick. Now let me tell you something about paleness. FIX IT. Although it's been recently proven that tanning beds cause those aged under 30 to increase their chances of skin cancer by 75% there is nothing wrong with a little NATURAL SUNLIGHT. Go outside! Everyone needs a little Vitamin D! It's obvious these pale people are poor?! Do they not vacation? Do they not allow themselves the opportunity to just close their eyes and soak up the rays? Oh dear, God. Let me finish. This pale leg was not the only problem.....it was accompanied by a TATTOO.

I hate tattoos with such a passion its almost illogical. Their ugly black, dirty red, dark blue and mud green coloring UGH and against such PALE skin. It’s not my idea of art. What is it with people these days? Why are they begging attention to be drawn to their hideous, permanent stamps. If you are not a sailor, biker, drug dealer, or black man who loves their mom/had a friend die in a driveby JUST STOP. Maybe it's just the high-class snobbery of my English upbringing talking, but I'm pretty sure tattoos are terrifying. I am certain there are some intelligent, cultured and indeed good people out there somewhere who display tattoos. All in all though I feel as though real value lies in something far deeper than tattooing.

Sorry for my rant.

I've gotta go give someone my coffee order.

Forever and Always,

The Queen