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This Blog is a personal record and an honest illustration of my life as a full time embroidery artist. I hope that you find it entertaining and inspiring.

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Tuesday, 22 June 2010

Neon Nails

I decided in my infinite wisdom to get the bus instead of a taxi from the airport in San Fran. (yeah baby San Fran today, NY yesterday, yeah....baby.) ...Mainly because I thought maybe I should budget a little, but I wish I hadn't ... now my body has crumpled and I feel like a felt a few years ago before I started yogaaaa. The load has got the better of me. I am as weak as a kitten.

I had to get the train link at the airport, then another train to another place, there was a weird man with goggly eyes on the train and he stared at me the whole way, I got off and according to my map, had to walk about 5 blocks down to a bus stop. I didn't realise that these particular blocks were LONG blocks. My suitcase and back pack got heavier and heavier and I felt like I was pulling a mini.

My introduction to San Francisco was what I basically expected of New York. Rows of homeless guys on walls with their trolleys full of belongings. Transvestites loping around in random and eclectic outfits from velour brazil tankinis to Aunt Dorris's dresses and faces full of dark stubble. One lady guy looked like a standard lamp with hairy legs.

However, it was worth it just for the most awful and fabulous experience I have ever had on a bus. I arrived to find a no 47 but this bus was broken, well, the disabled access platform broke and could not be shifted. Luckily, no one was on it.

So, the second bus eventually arrived and the bus driver, oh the bus driver... was a fantastically large black blinged up mama with huge gold sunglasses, a leopard skin fleece bobble hat, neon pink lips, brown bus trousers, body warmer, huge bling diamonte earings and long neon pink false nails which, when I asked her for a ticket she tapped slowly on the ticket machine and scowled at me over her large golden glasses. She was distinctly feminine and like a big black blingy genie with serious attitude.

The bus was packed but I managed to get a seat right at the front facing sideways towards the woman. She was tantilisingly frightful. She couldn't give a shit about anybody on the bus and every time she drew away from the stop she would honk the horn and scream 'Get down the bus!' I SAID ... Get down the bus (you mothers)!' And all these random people would squeeze and shift a few inches to obey this frightening queen. At one point she was driving so fast she nearly ran over a pedestrian who had stepped off the sidewalk and of course followed this with a blaze of shouting and honking. "You goddarn son of a ....."

But then, at the occasional bus stop, she would flick out this large Japanese fan from under the steering wheel and fan herself then flick it back shut, mutter under her breath and rev the hell out of the bus into the road.

I didn't have my camera handy - it was in my suitcase... double dammit!

Now my back is totally screwy wooey. I am going to have to spend some days sorting it out.
Damn damn. Next time I will sod the money and get the taxi but miss out on the fabulous African Bus Queen.

Rock out sista, your day cant have been that bad!

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