i think anyway.
yeah, yeah, it was.
it was a beautiful day. sort of. in that mondayafterreadingbreak kind of way. warm enough. easy enough. met up with paula after classes at 3, and grabbed a coffee, even though all i'd had to eat/drink at that point was a piece of banana loaf and a coffee. oh, and an iced tea. it seemed superflous at the time, but i often drink too much coffee, so it didn't seem problematic.
i needed to return mulholland drive to alpha video on the drive, and so my plan, after meeting up with horner and helping to poster the bus loop for the vagina monologues (always a pleasure running into kate), was to jump on the express 99 that goes straight from campus to the drive. perfect, i thought. i never get to take that bus.
i remember thinking before i got on the bus, and even mentioning to kate, gee, i kind of feel like i'm going to have to hit up a bathroom soon, my bladder was filling up...but it didn't seem too urgent, and i was at the bus loop, so i just sorta thought: fuckit.
given that 'the bus is my best friend' (as paula once said), i was kind of excited about taking (a different version of) the bus off campus. i thought it would be nice to time the journey, since i never really take the express, so i looked at my watch, as we pulled out of the bus loop. ten to five.
there was some back-up weirdo antennae bus action near the village, but sooner or later, we were chuggin along, ricocheting our way over and up and down all the lovely potholes that line the road past thr golf course, towards the gates on blanca. i got a seat, which is key on the express, because there are no stops, so no one is ever getting on or off. so there's never any potential to sit down...
blew past sasamat, suddenly, it's alma. i look at my watch. five. nice...this bus goes fast man.
i begin to contemplate whether or not the express is just as fast as a car, when i begin to realize, i kind of have to pee. i'm initially annoyed, but since i clearly have to just ignore it, it doesn't bother me. and i continue my thoughts about the express b-line, the people around me, and life in general.
after the squiggle on to broadway, i begin to realize this havingtopeeproblem was going to be quite bothersome, actually. this frustrates me, as i look out at ash st. and think, hey, it's a long way yet...don't think about it. don't think about it. whatever.
there was some back-up weirdo antennae bus action near the village, but sooner or later, we were chuggin along, ricocheting our way over and up and down all the lovely potholes that line the road past thr golf course, towards the gates on blanca. i got a seat, which is key on the express, because there are no stops, so no one is ever getting on or off. so there's never any potential to sit down...
blew past sasamat, suddenly, it's alma. i look at my watch. five. nice...this bus goes fast man.
i begin to contemplate whether or not the express is just as fast as a car, when i begin to realize, i kind of have to pee. i'm initially annoyed, but since i clearly have to just ignore it, it doesn't bother me. and i continue my thoughts about the express b-line, the people around me, and life in general.
after the squiggle on to broadway, i begin to realize this havingtopeeproblem was going to be quite bothersome, actually. this frustrates me, as i look out at ash st. and think, hey, it's a long way yet...don't think about it. don't think about it. whatever.
passed solly's...notice the sunshine diner appears to be moving across the street soon. past macdonald. now my attention is turned almost completely to the stops and starts of the bus, and their direct impact on my bladder. or rather my experience of my bladder.
the weirdo kits fade out towards arbutus. i am beginning to breath yoga-style. i'm considering how to focus my body on other things. look at the sky. look at the buildings. think about something else. think about something else. jerk. bladder. wow. this is overwhelming. i hate that i can't just get off. this is stressful.
i take my hat off, because i feel my head getting warm. i sort out my hair, put my hat back on, and decide to avoid any and all movement from now on. i am sitting in the aisle seat, last row before the horizontal-to-the-bus rows, so i can lean my head back on the weirdo plexiglass. this is excellent, because it allows my body the partial non-bend. i.e., i am leaned way back-ish, and my wasit/butt is more forward on the seat. i have never been more thankful to be in the aisle seat.
kinko's. i am now remembering the only other time i can think of where i hadtopeesobadthatithoughtiwasgoingtodie. i was on a plane, flying from godknowswhere to godknowswhere, (i find almost all airplane experiences, much like the normal b-line, blend into one kind of sountrack-memory, single distuinguishable portions of rides/trips might stick out, most do not)...so the plane was preparing to land, and i was like, damn, i have to pee. but the seatbelt sign had just gone back on. i basically spent the next 10 minutes regretting every second that i hadn't gotten up the second before to just go. i felt as though the 'preparing for landing' business had been called pre-emptively, and there totally would have been time for me to go. but no one ever says 'we are landing in 12 minutes'. or 'we are landing in 22 minutes'. so i held it. i thought i was going to die, but i think i actually did make it all the way into the terminal. i remember thinking i was going to die, but somehow it diffused.
granville. this is not going away. what am i going to do? i can't get off the bus. i suppose i could tell the drive i needed to get off the bus and he'd have to let me off. i'd have to say something like 'i'm having a panic attack'...that'd do it. why don't busses have toilets? i wondered how often other people around me are silently, motionlessly freaking out at any given moment...i'm beginning to sweat. it occurs to me around the memphis blues house/meat fries place that loosening my belt (possible, thank god, in that i'm wearing a nylon belt) would release some pressure. i do this and do not care if anyone notices.
i am beginning to have visions of myself actually having a spaz. i wonder what this would look like. would i stand up, pissing and flailing and screaming? and do some kind of possessed dance and start foaming at the mouth, in the area beside the door which is painted yellow? for .5 seconds i entertained what it would be like to just maybe pee a bit but i knew this would NEVER WORK. and would never go unnoticed. i am beginning to doubt my ability to even stand up, and am now actively planning my move to the busdriver and my premature exit from the bus.
the full-on clamping of my vaginal muscles is tricky, because to apply the DON'T PEE muscles, is sort of also to apply pressure on the whole bladder deal, so i do as best i can. i shut my music off. movement is tricky. i cautiously take my headphones off, and kind of watch my arm move in front of me, grab my bag and pull it up, like as if my body was running off of muscle-batteries, backed up somewhere else, and it wasn't affecting the current extremely tentative balance of my body.
the weirdo kits fade out towards arbutus. i am beginning to breath yoga-style. i'm considering how to focus my body on other things. look at the sky. look at the buildings. think about something else. think about something else. jerk. bladder. wow. this is overwhelming. i hate that i can't just get off. this is stressful.
i take my hat off, because i feel my head getting warm. i sort out my hair, put my hat back on, and decide to avoid any and all movement from now on. i am sitting in the aisle seat, last row before the horizontal-to-the-bus rows, so i can lean my head back on the weirdo plexiglass. this is excellent, because it allows my body the partial non-bend. i.e., i am leaned way back-ish, and my wasit/butt is more forward on the seat. i have never been more thankful to be in the aisle seat.
kinko's. i am now remembering the only other time i can think of where i hadtopeesobadthatithoughtiwasgoingtodie. i was on a plane, flying from godknowswhere to godknowswhere, (i find almost all airplane experiences, much like the normal b-line, blend into one kind of sountrack-memory, single distuinguishable portions of rides/trips might stick out, most do not)...so the plane was preparing to land, and i was like, damn, i have to pee. but the seatbelt sign had just gone back on. i basically spent the next 10 minutes regretting every second that i hadn't gotten up the second before to just go. i felt as though the 'preparing for landing' business had been called pre-emptively, and there totally would have been time for me to go. but no one ever says 'we are landing in 12 minutes'. or 'we are landing in 22 minutes'. so i held it. i thought i was going to die, but i think i actually did make it all the way into the terminal. i remember thinking i was going to die, but somehow it diffused.
granville. this is not going away. what am i going to do? i can't get off the bus. i suppose i could tell the drive i needed to get off the bus and he'd have to let me off. i'd have to say something like 'i'm having a panic attack'...that'd do it. why don't busses have toilets? i wondered how often other people around me are silently, motionlessly freaking out at any given moment...i'm beginning to sweat. it occurs to me around the memphis blues house/meat fries place that loosening my belt (possible, thank god, in that i'm wearing a nylon belt) would release some pressure. i do this and do not care if anyone notices.
i am beginning to have visions of myself actually having a spaz. i wonder what this would look like. would i stand up, pissing and flailing and screaming? and do some kind of possessed dance and start foaming at the mouth, in the area beside the door which is painted yellow? for .5 seconds i entertained what it would be like to just maybe pee a bit but i knew this would NEVER WORK. and would never go unnoticed. i am beginning to doubt my ability to even stand up, and am now actively planning my move to the busdriver and my premature exit from the bus.
the full-on clamping of my vaginal muscles is tricky, because to apply the DON'T PEE muscles, is sort of also to apply pressure on the whole bladder deal, so i do as best i can. i shut my music off. movement is tricky. i cautiously take my headphones off, and kind of watch my arm move in front of me, grab my bag and pull it up, like as if my body was running off of muscle-batteries, backed up somewhere else, and it wasn't affecting the current extremely tentative balance of my body.
past willow. past the hospital. i can now feel myself sweating. full on. i notice i am kind of twitching. like in a way that i feel i can't really control, but other people on the bus may notice that i seem 'uncomfortable'. this occurs to me. i don't care.
while i am wondering how to ask the bus driver to let me off, since he is driving in the middle lane...and surely there is some legal ican'tletyouoffinthemiddleofthestreetnomatterwhat thing he has to obey...regardless of panicked/urinating spazmatic travellers...although i think i could handle it, but i'm sure he wouldn't let me- i am not sure whether to fear the bus driver, anyway, during all this, random things start to occur to me.
like, wow, i wonder if my mom feels like this a lot. i know she has bladder problems or something. (something relating to me being a bigfat baby and ruining her bladder, although i was never told this, i've sort of pieced it together myself over the years, and always kind of felt guilty- although mom would never allow me to feel responsible... ten pounds, two ounces. fat baby.)
i am also having a bit of a hate-on with myself about knowing i smell like cigarettes. i periodically have this. but it more nauseates me at this particular moment than concretely frustrates me.
i am now fully planning on standing up, and walking towards the bus driver. i just have to wait for a moment when i think, after asking, he would let me off right away. the last thing i want is to get to the front, and then get rejected/have to wait or something. cambie. there are rows of busses next to us. he's not going to let me off.
mec. green light. fuck.
while i am wondering how to ask the bus driver to let me off, since he is driving in the middle lane...and surely there is some legal ican'tletyouoffinthemiddleofthestreetnomatterwhat thing he has to obey...regardless of panicked/urinating spazmatic travellers...although i think i could handle it, but i'm sure he wouldn't let me- i am not sure whether to fear the bus driver, anyway, during all this, random things start to occur to me.
like, wow, i wonder if my mom feels like this a lot. i know she has bladder problems or something. (something relating to me being a bigfat baby and ruining her bladder, although i was never told this, i've sort of pieced it together myself over the years, and always kind of felt guilty- although mom would never allow me to feel responsible... ten pounds, two ounces. fat baby.)
i am also having a bit of a hate-on with myself about knowing i smell like cigarettes. i periodically have this. but it more nauseates me at this particular moment than concretely frustrates me.
i am now fully planning on standing up, and walking towards the bus driver. i just have to wait for a moment when i think, after asking, he would let me off right away. the last thing i want is to get to the front, and then get rejected/have to wait or something. cambie. there are rows of busses next to us. he's not going to let me off.
mec. green light. fuck.
ontario. the light is red. i feel my body standing up calmly and walking towards the front. i realize that everyone must think it's weird, who goes to talk to the busdriver on the express non-stop? i don't care. in retrospect, it occurs to me that there was no like trigger/standing-up/have to pee trauma brought on by the standingup. my mind was just so focussed on the reality of being off the bus possibly right away i guess.
i walk right up next to the bus driver. grab the little yellow bar and calmly and quietly say; "um, i'm about to have a serious panic attack, and i need you to let me off the bus, like right now." i vaguely remember him kind of interjecting and trying to get me to repeat myself, but i just repeated myself, in the exact same calm tone, with the exact same words. he said, "no problem, i'll just pull over". i could see the curb after the lights where i would be free. the light changed. he pulled forward, (i could feel the collective consciousness of the bus going 'what the fuck? why is this bitch getting off here? you can't stop the non-stop?')
i move towards the door. he says, 'are you gonna be okay?' i say 'yes, i'll be fine'. he asks if he should call an ambulance. i say i'll be fine. he pulls over. the door opens. i think i muttered thanks as i burst off of the bus.
i can't remember if i kind of started running back towards ontario (to get around the corner to pee in an alley) because i wanted to hurry, or because i was subconsciously thinking that the performance of me running once off the bus would be weirdly more comforting for the people now watching me from the bus pulling away from the curb...)
i noticed once i turned the corner that the ihavetopeenow sensation had actually diminished considerably.
i made a double corner, and figured i'd pee in the parking lot. homeless guy, with full on fire. i nod at him, and doubled back.
fuck it, i'll go to the nearest restaurant. my endurance at this point is surprisingly strong, i guess because i know it will be very soon that i can finally fucking pee. for fucks' sake.
sushi restaurant. i go inside, walk up the stairs. consider that they might turn me away, but rehearse my reallynicerequest in my head and find the place empty and three people jumping up from/outfrom/ or around from tables to quasi serve me, i ask the hostess woman "if it would be okay if i used the washroom?" she says it's down the hall. i thank her graciously.
washroom. bag down. (by the way, my coffee cup, with coffee still in it, straw and all, is still in my hands.) all ditched on the counter. third stall. close door behind me. (it briefly occurs to me that this particular moment of rushing into a bathroom is not as bad as i might have imagined, i think other bar/drinking ihavetopees have been way more urgent. i don't care.)
pants down.
ass down.
freeeeeeedom.
i get out and wash my hands. noticing for the first time that i am actually breathing quite deeply. i dump out my coffee and through that fucking cup deep into my bag.
i get out of the weirdo sushi place and thank the people and i'm back on the street.
i looked at my watch. 5:15. hmm. the longest 20 minutes of my life...
i needed to breath. and walk. so i just walked.
and walked.
and walked.
from ontario to the drive. to alpha video.
then i bought A LOT of groceries at triple A produce. and then i caught a cab home.
i felt great once i got in the door. even being in the cab was great.
i put all my groceries in the kitchen, got into sweatpants...then i don't know...the next hour i just manic-ly cleaned the dishes, the counter, the recyling, the garbage, the garbage and recycling in my room, in the bathroom, rearranged my cabinet in the kitchen, cleaned out the fridge, threw out old leftovers. purged. cleaned. did basic tasks.
and then i put on cat power, opened a beer and decided to write it all in my blog.
and that's where i am now. my beer is almost done. and now paula's home. and i should probably eat something. my legs are a bit sore from the walking. my brain is kind of whiplashy. i feel fine. i guess.
what a weird day.
am i supposed to derive a lesson from this? um, always find a bathroom when i think i might have to pee, i guess. what the fuck though. i never want to feel like that again.
that was definitely the worst bus experience of my life. (well, except for the time i got groped on a night bus in paris, but i'll save that story for another time. i am going to write transit books. i swear it, i am.)
ok, bye.
i walk right up next to the bus driver. grab the little yellow bar and calmly and quietly say; "um, i'm about to have a serious panic attack, and i need you to let me off the bus, like right now." i vaguely remember him kind of interjecting and trying to get me to repeat myself, but i just repeated myself, in the exact same calm tone, with the exact same words. he said, "no problem, i'll just pull over". i could see the curb after the lights where i would be free. the light changed. he pulled forward, (i could feel the collective consciousness of the bus going 'what the fuck? why is this bitch getting off here? you can't stop the non-stop?')
i move towards the door. he says, 'are you gonna be okay?' i say 'yes, i'll be fine'. he asks if he should call an ambulance. i say i'll be fine. he pulls over. the door opens. i think i muttered thanks as i burst off of the bus.
i can't remember if i kind of started running back towards ontario (to get around the corner to pee in an alley) because i wanted to hurry, or because i was subconsciously thinking that the performance of me running once off the bus would be weirdly more comforting for the people now watching me from the bus pulling away from the curb...)
i noticed once i turned the corner that the ihavetopeenow sensation had actually diminished considerably.
i made a double corner, and figured i'd pee in the parking lot. homeless guy, with full on fire. i nod at him, and doubled back.
fuck it, i'll go to the nearest restaurant. my endurance at this point is surprisingly strong, i guess because i know it will be very soon that i can finally fucking pee. for fucks' sake.
sushi restaurant. i go inside, walk up the stairs. consider that they might turn me away, but rehearse my reallynicerequest in my head and find the place empty and three people jumping up from/outfrom/ or around from tables to quasi serve me, i ask the hostess woman "if it would be okay if i used the washroom?" she says it's down the hall. i thank her graciously.
washroom. bag down. (by the way, my coffee cup, with coffee still in it, straw and all, is still in my hands.) all ditched on the counter. third stall. close door behind me. (it briefly occurs to me that this particular moment of rushing into a bathroom is not as bad as i might have imagined, i think other bar/drinking ihavetopees have been way more urgent. i don't care.)
pants down.
ass down.
freeeeeeedom.
i get out and wash my hands. noticing for the first time that i am actually breathing quite deeply. i dump out my coffee and through that fucking cup deep into my bag.
i get out of the weirdo sushi place and thank the people and i'm back on the street.
i looked at my watch. 5:15. hmm. the longest 20 minutes of my life...
i needed to breath. and walk. so i just walked.
and walked.
and walked.
from ontario to the drive. to alpha video.
then i bought A LOT of groceries at triple A produce. and then i caught a cab home.
i felt great once i got in the door. even being in the cab was great.
i put all my groceries in the kitchen, got into sweatpants...then i don't know...the next hour i just manic-ly cleaned the dishes, the counter, the recyling, the garbage, the garbage and recycling in my room, in the bathroom, rearranged my cabinet in the kitchen, cleaned out the fridge, threw out old leftovers. purged. cleaned. did basic tasks.
and then i put on cat power, opened a beer and decided to write it all in my blog.
and that's where i am now. my beer is almost done. and now paula's home. and i should probably eat something. my legs are a bit sore from the walking. my brain is kind of whiplashy. i feel fine. i guess.
what a weird day.
am i supposed to derive a lesson from this? um, always find a bathroom when i think i might have to pee, i guess. what the fuck though. i never want to feel like that again.
that was definitely the worst bus experience of my life. (well, except for the time i got groped on a night bus in paris, but i'll save that story for another time. i am going to write transit books. i swear it, i am.)
ok, bye.
