You got to love NextBus.
I don’t often ride the MUNI trains or the bus, but when I do, this is the best app ever.
I can sit in my house, noodle around, and when I have about three minutes, maybe four, if I’m feeling anxious, walk out the door, walk to the end of the block, and voila!
Remember when you just sat and waited?
It would say bus every ten to fifteen minutes in the schedule, but it was 49 minutes later and you’ve seen 18 buses headed the other direction and yet, here you are, alone, cold, shivering in the fog, waiting for the fucking bus to come.
Not waiting for Godot.
Waiting for the 22.
Or the infamous 24.
Or the 33.
Oh how I have waited for the buses.
Today, I just scrolled my finger on my phone, popped open the app and saw when the next one was coming and even better.
The app also has the time that the bus behind it is coming.
Therefore allowing me time to do what ever I need to do at the house before leaving the house.
I got up early and got my errands, chores, and laundry on.
I still got a good night’s sleep, just a touch over eight hours, and I took a friend’s suggestion and silenced my phone last night.
I will forget and be pinged awake at all hours of the night, texts from my sister in Florida, which is three, no, four hours ahead, at 6:30 a.m.; messages from friends, Twitter alerts, Facebook messages, all manner of social media pings and beeps and boops.
Plus, of course the occasional text and what have you.
It’s nice on one hand to be in the mix.
But sometimes I don’t want to know who has like my Instagram feed.
I want to sleep.
It is with that in mind that I also do not look at my phone, I am not always successful, or respond to messages until after I have done my morning routine.
I can’t flip on my phone and lie in bed and scroll the internet universe.
I will be a grumpy toad before even having tossed aside the sheets.
I love my world, I love my friends, I love, love, love that I am in contact with so many of them through so many different places.
Case in point: having a conversation on the ride back from North Berkeley with my friend about not having a ticket, yet, to Burning Man, this conversation happened about oh, 24 hours ago, slightly less. Fast forward to a few minutes ago when I saw a post on a private Facebook page for a group I belong to for a camp at Burning Man that I have dear friends camping at. The post featured a link to another post saying, hey friends, I have two tickets, who wants them?
I see lots of people want them.
However, I look closer, oh!!
It’s my good friend from my first year at the burn when I camped with Camp Stella and he gave me my first playa name: Ophelia and has a photo of me hanging in his office from the dust storm I fell asleep in (I got covered in dust, head to toe, had my hands crossed over my chest and was wearing a tutu, face mask, bandana, and goggles, I looked dead).
I have to hook my friends up!
I message both, get a text from both, exchange phone numbers and they just got off the phone with each other and my friend who didn’t have a ticket.
Now he does!
It can happen like that.
Sometimes, though, I do need to slow down, take it easy, turn off the technology and rest.
It helps me get clear with the things I do need to do and a lot of that has to do with taking extremely good care of myself.
Laundry, grocery shopping, cooking, composting, taking out the trash, meeting with the ladies and doing the deal.
I had two ladies back to back from noon to 2p.m.
But before that.
I did all of those things above.
Plus my own writing and having a nice breakfast (hot oatmeal with diced pear and blueberries, cinnamon, nutmeg, sea salt, raw cocoa, one organic hard-boiled egg, lots of coffee w/unsweetened vanilla almond milk) of my own.
Then later after my last lady bug had left.
I got to have lunch from what I had cooked earlier, dinner too, and I had time to do a field trip.
I opened my NextBus app and saw when the 18 was heading my way.
Legion of Honor.
I finally got myself in to see the Brooklyn Museum’s Costume Collection: High Style.
It was so good.
I got all sorts of art high.
House of Worth, Roger Worth evening dresses.
Edward Molyneux evening dresses.
Yves St. Laurent.
Charles James and the muslims for his ball gowns, breath-taking.
Steven Arpad, for Delman, Inc evening shoes.
Elsa Schiaparelli butterfly day dress and parasol.
I’ll take two please!
Oh fashion, how I do love you.
Plus, you know, the normal galleries with their Monet’s and Pissarro’s, the Rodin sculptures everywhere, the Renoir’s and Manet’s (I like the Impressionists a bit you could say), it was just scrumptious.
The museum was a bit busy, there was also a concert happening–an organ concert by David Hegarty–which I thought about staying for, but it was standing room only and it felt nicer to just wander through the galleries with the sound of the Skinner Organ drifting around me.
I’m ever so grateful for all the tech that this world has, I mean, I am writing a blog and posting it online and sending it out into the inter webs, but I am also a Mensch for the classic, time-worn, much beloved wander through a museum, sit on a bench and listen to an organ concert, admire art, slow and delicious, taking the bus and not riding my bike willy nilly though the park and over the hills.
I believe this is what’s called balance.
It’s a nice place to be in my life.