ssssssssssssssssSteam Heat!

for the next two-and-a-half weeks, i have to get myself to work via public transportation (because my darling friend, RiseyP, who usually drives me will be on a fantabulous vacation in japan!).

but this means i have to take the bus (Muni) to the subway (BART) to the shuttle that takes me to my office park.

and THAT, therefore, makes THREE different ways, every morning AND every evening, that i can totally fuck up getting to and from work.

add having to get to the gym before-hand (which i will attempt tomorrow), which will necessitate a FOURTH leg of public transportation, and it's entirely possible you will never see me again. because i am not a savvy public transportation taker.

"hey, where'd kristy go?"

"you know, i have no idea. last i saw her she was getting on the F Market."

"the F Market? but that's nowhere near her apartment OR office..."

and plus public transportation lies. like, just because you are called the 1 California does NOT guarantee that you actually travel on California street. i mean, sure. some of the time you do, but some of the time you don't. and when and why this happens is never clear. (remember this situation?) (scroll down to see it because of weird formatting).

and also? just because you travel on one street in one direction does not mean you will travel on the same street when you're going in the opposite direction.

and ohmygod, please do not even get me started on how you're supposed to know which escalator to take up OR down when travelling underground.

ex: i get off the subway at an underground stop. i need to go up to "Market Street." i look to my right and there is a sign that says, "TO MARKET STREET" and that sign is in front of stairs and so i figure i am going the right way. but then as i head to those stairs, i happen to notice ANOTHER sign, waaaaaaay over in THAT direction, that says, "TO MARKET STREET" and it is ALSO in front of a stairwell.

now i don't know what sort of super humans just KNOW which "TO MARKET STREET" stairs they should take, but i am no such creature. i will think, long and hard about what side of the street i am on (and please. i do not EVER know east or west or north or south; i know "this" side, which means the one i'm on and "that" side, which means the side i am not on but probably need to be). and i will decide and take those stairs and be wrong.

anyway. so without any more exaggeration, here is the hardest part about my commute:

i have absolutely no idea where the Civic Center BART station is.

but kristy, you wonder, surely you have been there before on the other mornings you used public transit to commute. what do you mean you don't know where it is?

well, what i mean is that despite exiting from it on several evenings and even finding my way to it on several mornings including this morning, i really, genuinely have no idea where it is.

i just don't conceptually GET where the station is located. see, it's at this part of the city where like, 900 streets converge and there are all these alleys and statues and diagonal streets and a farmer's market and big buildings.

so from where the buses (any of three lines that i can get on from my apartment) drops me off nearish to the station, i have to figure out how to go from the bus stop to the BART station. and because you can go any of about forty hundred ways to get from BUS STOP A to BART STATION B, i never really know if i'm going the right way. i just basically meander in the direction of "left."

but i do so at a very good clip, because even though i am clueless i am also from the new york area and thus MUST walk as though of COURSE i know where i'm going and don't get in my way because i am very busy and important and sureashell know where the BART station is, duh.

and so sure enough, this morning's adventure left me wandering (faux assuredly) "left" through the farmer's market. and i was completely convinced i was going in the wrongest direction possible because nothing looked familiar -- as, for example, i'd never walked through the farmer's market before (and also? is it a farmer's market if you're selling heating pads and magic scarves? doesn't that just make it a flea market? god, i don't understand anything).

but then i saw a CLUE!

all of a sudden, there was a mass of people walking past me with briefcases and the same sense of assuredness i had (except theirs probably wasn't faked), so i figured a-ha! they must have all just ascended from the BART station! i must be going in the right direction!

you know, like being stranded at sea and suddenly spotting seagulls and realizing you must be getting close to shore.

and lo! there it was. the BA sign. in a place i would have sworn to you was totally NOT the same place i've ever seen it before. but whatever. i got to work on time.

but now that this entry has taken all of my lunch hour, i cannot get into why i titled this post as i did. except i will tell you that i was rather shocked this morning when, on my way out the door, i grabbed my coat and it was all wet.

so was my TV.

so was my entire entertainment unit.

SOAKED.

and i didn't have time to dry it off because i couldn't miss the last shuttle (see how these things are now related?).

but i really had to wonder what on god's green earth had happened in the corner of my livingroom since as far as i could recall, there had not been a thunderstorm in my apartment the night before.

in fact, to my knowledge there has never been so much as a sunshower inside my apartment.

and that is probably because my apartment is, you know, INSIDE.

so i looked up. and no, nothing was coming from the ceiling. no water damaged ceiling or walls.

and then i saw that my heater was not just hissing its usual heat-hiss, but it was actually blowing out steam. and must have been doing so for quite a long time. and apparently The Entire Realm of Science has heard me talking about it because it conspired against me to form an entirely unnecessary demonstration of Water's Various Properties, from evaporation to condensation to precipitation ALL OVER MY LIVING ROOM.

all i could do in the time i had before dashing out the door was turn off the heat, turn off the surge protector/outlet, and hang my soaked netflix envelopes in the bathroom to dry.

did i mention i got to work on time?