Mood-o-meter reading: Indifferent, anxious for the weekend to begin.

This morning's commute consisted of a MUNI bus, surrounding me with crazies. And when I say crazies, I mean dirty, smelly, talking to themselves and others incoherently, with little bodily control. Why is this different from any other morning? The sad part is that it's not. I'm just thankful that I didn't get stuck sitting next to any of them, and avoided forced pseudo conversations, the kind where you stare at the ground and evade any uneeded inhalations.

I'm excited for tomorrow's Brides of March. "What's this?" you ask? Well, I have yet to take this journey, since it's the first March since I've been a citizen of San Francisco, but from what I have been told, it's a pub crawl made up of a mass of women and men, dressed in all-white or wedding gowns. The event organizer suggests purchasing a wedding gown at a thrift or second-hand shop, of which there are many in this city. Remember the scene in The Bachelor where hundreds of brides chase after Chris O'Donnell? Well, picture something like that. I will surely be lugging my camera on this adventure.

Just found out that Marilyn sprained her ankle. Silly girl...she has been taking the bus to work, and her departing bus stop in the morning is two or three blocks from her loft. Why she has been wearing flip-flops for this trek is beyond my knowledge. Keep that ice on it, girly!

RAGE MORE!  ¶ 11:38 AM