Jewfro, Neo, and Frozen Dairy Treat Justice

Its 7:30 a.m. and I'm riding a metrobus of fictional proportions into the city to my job serving at the tea room. It feels like I'm a Hot Wheels in the hands of a toddler the way it rattles and shakes when the drowsy bus driver (Who I imagine has a name like Latashia of Dareen judging from her flash-frozen dyed red hair) hit a curb a second ago. I half except to find a peeling "Made In China" sticker on the bottom of my surprisingly plush seat but I'm sure all I'd really find is vagabond pocket change and business cards.

That being said, I quite enjoy public transport. There are several familiar faces this morning. Perhaps most interesting is the freakishly tall man wearing headphones to drown out his loud pepto-pink shirt who is the spitting image of Neo from the Matrix. I, Hannah Musick, ride the metro with Sad Keanu.

The whiskery forensics prof. from a city university has finished the toddler-sized tome he has been working on all week and is snoring gently, his waffling white sneakers tucked together under the seat. How he can sleep next to lively Richard, the guy in head-to-toe scrubs working the night shift to support his university studies in funeral directing, is beyond me.

An older woman, new to the commuter crowd, is reading a horribly produced newspaper and, I believe, a blond wig.I can forgive wearing a wig weather for fasion or illness but why, oh why would you choose the flaxen mullet look when there are so many other options out there? Oh, look! Cute Asian College Student is back and being a dependable and good student unlike Sir Jewfro that only bothers to come a few days a week and won't stop playing Angry Birds and loudly sipping a Slurpee.Shame on you, Sir Jewfro. You are a disgrace to your hair. 

When you spend enough time commuting you begin to learn how to spot little indicators of just how trustworthy a person might be. 50 year old women with a blouse from Khols and ladybugs embroidered on her shoes who is staring at me like I might steal her grandmother's angel cake recipe? The worst thing shes going to do is not tell you about a hot sale at Sears.

Now the geriatric man who has turned grey and wrinkly like an elephant hide and is making a-ok signs at his lips, staring his pink eyes at a kid down the train until they meet and there is much rustling of a Foot Locker bag however? Yeah, Grandpa might not make the most stable travelling buddy.

However there is a formula to avoid these shady jades that you can employ any time you have to commute or walk through a creepy neighborhood. I even arranged it into a unnecessary and totally unrelated anagram GET 'EM:

G.lasses
E.ye contact
T.exting


'E.arphones
M.ace

Its pretty simple: Wear sun glasses, avoid eye contact, text someone/or call them to avoid talking to creeps, wear earphones (sound optional), and have emergency mace on your person. Trying to get your attention through any of your Get 'Em defenses takes too much effort for the petty creeps and the serious ones should back off if you ever had to pull the mace (which I've never had or think I'll have to, but its just a safety precaution. And I'm a bit trigger happy). Above all pray for protection, trust your gut, and don't be stupid. If a twitchy man in a white van offers you free candy be smart and just say no. Unless maybe if its a peanut butter cup of course.

I'm currently in the stage of life where people begin to take your answer to "What do you want to be when you grow up, Little Girl?" seriously. (Which is unfortunate because for most of my childhood years the answer was , "A princess mermaid" or "Peter Pan's Wife". This doesn't fly anymore.) With all the soul searching, college searching, and transcript credit searching you come to a point where it isn't about finding your destined major anymore, its about finding any acceptable major. Through all this inner thought and snacking while doing said inner thought I can conclude that I do have a driving passion in life: Ice cream. Or rather, the fillings in ice creams.

How many times have you gotten a cone of delicious cookie-dough, peanut-butter cup, moose tracks, or any other ice cream with a filling only to bite in and find that you have been unjustly jipped and have only a mundane vanilla scoop? "This is no cookies and cream!", you scream to the cold skies, "if anything its cream with a chance of cookies!" I may be the next Martin King Jr. of frozen dairy treats, bringing equality and truth to bombast the lies and deceitful packaging of Frozen Treat Giants. ENOUGH, I say. GIVE ME COOKIE DOUGH, OR GIVE ME DEATH. OR AT LEAST A REASONABLE DISCOUNT.

Chill Complaints,
Hannah

Signs the World is in the Handbasket

Humanity, I am disappointed in you. The constant stream of news about wars, violence, hunger, desperation, and death was bad enough. The day that I realized just how creepy the telletubies were (despite their awesome toaster), it was sad. But has the process of the degradation of the world finally reached the point where I'm on my running route passing a string of middle school buses, smile, and get multiple birds and other obscene hand gestures from the kids? Two days in a row? SERIOUSLY? The thought that comforts me is that I ever pass a school bus of 9th graders again I'm going to beam, point at me, make a Justin Beiber heart with my hands, then point at them and wink. Try and dodge them flying cooties, buster. Thats right, you can't run away because you are wearing your jeans at your knees with the boxers hanging out. HAHA!

Really though, i'm pretty sad with humanity. For example, the other day at Zumba. Me lovely friend M'-Jimmer and I had just suited up and were stretching to get ready for some salsa when one of the younger girls in our class turned to her friend, sighed, and said, "Gosh, I HATE my legs. They are SO fat. I wish I had yours." From a 90 something pound girl who is maybe even under the suggested weight. Of course this one comment sparked several rounds of the "Fat Game". It has to be played with 2+ people and the person who wins is the person who gets the most attention for complaining about how she is a size 2. What is wrong with you, people? Go eat some fries!

Another small but still irritating thing is the Unspoken Teenage Girl Dress Code. Did I miss a universal memo? Was I absent that day in Do Or Die Class? Am I the only one who sees this? I'm starting to think that i'm in some weird, alternate universe where they clone all the teenage girls after one person with not that great of a style sense. I'm the last person to be lecturing on what to or not to wear (hello, pink zebra print rain boots and floral skirt in Winter), but it is sad to see a group of 16 girls walking down the street and every last one is wearing the exact same thing: Uggs, leggings and shorty shorts or sweatpants, a sweatshirt from their high school, hair pulled up in a pony tail and a neon headband. Everywhere. Is there no originality anymore?

Of course there are some huge, world effecting concerns. Things like the fact that every day 115, 000 unborn babies are being murdered daily worldwide or that there are children starving in Africa. Small indicators too, though. Like the fact that Jersey Shore exists.

But there is a bright side to every handbasket. Especially if there is a tropical fruit assortment or perhaps some ugly cupcakes (muffins). Like that every day more and more people are exposed to Kpop, new Doctor Who episodes are being released, and more devices to kill lady bugs invented. (I really hate those things). And no matter how bad things get, I'll always have God, my family, and my friends. And chocolate. Especially chocolate.

Pineapple,

-Hannah