just another typical day on the el

Maybe it's time that I just gave up and renamed this blog "Tales from the El." As I was telling a friend the other day, I wouldn't have nearly as many great stories if I drove everywhere instead of taking public transportation. 

The hardest part about taking the el (besides the crazy people) is that I am a bit of a germ phobe. So yesterday when I heard a girl start to cough and sniffle in the seat behind me, I really started to cringe. The el car that I was on was practically empty so I said, "Screw this! I am moving to another seat!" So I got up and moved a few seats away. I accidentally looked up and made eye contact with the girl, and then felt guilty about moving away. Then she put her forehead down on the back of the seat in front of her (my former seat) and started coughing without covering her mouth. I no longer felt guilty. 

About a minute went by and I heard a splash. At first I thought someone had knocked a drink over. But then I heard another splash. Nope, not a drink. The girl was just hurling everywhere. She was literally throwing up on her feet. 

Okay, I know this is gross and I shouldn't be writing about it. But you just have to hear about it- I had to see it! Can I tell you just how thankful I was that I decided to switch my seat? Oh, thank you baby Jesus! 

Then I was torn- do I go over there and try to help her? What could I really do for her? And quite frankly, I don't really want to be by the sick girl. So I stayed away. Which made me feel like a big jerk. But a big jerk who thankfully did not have vomit on her! 

is it just me?

Is anybody else intimidated when they go into Home Depot or is it just me? Everyone just seems so knowledgeable and handy. Lots of burly men in their paint splattered Carrharts who look at me like I don't really belong. And to be fair... I don't. Though I'm not completely worthless around the house. I can paint a room and put together all my furniture from Ikea by myself. 

The only thing that made me feel slightly better was when I asked the worker where the grout was, and he didn't know what grout was. Of course, my first thought was that I was saying it wrong or had just made up some unknown word. Nope, the second worker steered me right to it. I, of course, got overwhelmed and decided to wait till my brother could help me before I tackled the project of regrouting my shower floor. 

The main reason that I went to Home Depot today was simply to get some flowers for the boxes on my balcony. Simple task, right? It was so daunting. First of all, there were crazy amounts of people. Normally having my day off on a Tuesday rocks because there are no lines when I go places. But I didn't think about the fact that gardening is a popular hobby with old retired people who also have nothing better to do than go to Home Depot at 10 AM on a Tuesday morning! Second of all, everyone around me was talking so knowledgeably. All I know is that I want full sunlight plants that are pretty. Is that too much to ask? It seriously stressed me out. 

Am I the only one? What stupid thing or place intimidates you?

f u birds

I mentioned in an earlier post how I could commiserate with bird lovers as they got angry at squirrels stealing their precious bird food. But now I am changing my tune. (Yes, the pun is intended!)

I hate birds. Hate 'em! Mainly because they are the loudest little pests in the world. Do you know what time they start chirping in the morning? 3:38 AM!!! There is nothing worth singing about at 3:38 AM. Trust me on this! That's when the little guy starts. I can sort of tune him out but there is no ignoring the big guy when he chimes in at 4:18 AM. 

I could understand a few chirps, tweets and coos just to let your neighbors know you are awake but do they need to sing a whole friggin' opera? 

I looked to see if there was a reason why they needed to wake me up every day, thinking that if there was a really good reason, maybe, just maybe I could tolerate it more. The closest thing I found to an answer was this:

One reason may be that dawn is the best time for sound to travel, because there is little wind and less other noise and disturbance. Songs broadcast at dawn can be 20 times as effective as that broadcast at midday. And this is a time when birds can't do much else. Light intensity is low, making it difficult for them to hunt and forage. Low temperatures keep their insect prey on the ground. By singing at dawn, when their energy reserves are low after the night, male birds may be telling females that they are nevertheless still fit for breeding. A male singing lustily is demonstrating that he has spare energy in abundance. Dawn may be a good time to sing, but there is likely to be a lot of vocal competition. So there is an advantage in singing at a different time of day, particularly when two different species have similar songs: Two birds of the Californian chaparral, the wrentit and the Bewick's wren, share the same habitat, and also have similar songs. But they manage to alternate their singing bouts so that they are never in direct conflict.   The Berwick’s wren starts the session in the morning and dominates the airways for the first hour. The wrentit stays quiet to avoid competition, but gets his turn sing in the second hour, after which the Berwick’s wren starts again. And so this astonishing sharing of the stage goes on. Bird song travels best at night. The few night songsters, like the nightingale, may dominate the airways for hours with their beautiful songs.

Okay, I swore to never use this blog as a outlet for venting about irrelevant crap but that was before I became cranky Nikki who hasn't gotten a good night's sleep all week. Let's just hope that the birds are going to take the weekend off! 

your lost calling?

Okay, I swear that I won't make every post this month be about tennis, but I get so pumped when I play so I need to talk about it at least a little. 

I had another lesson today. This time it was with Ollie. Or "the Australian from Wales" as we like to refer to him. He's not actually Australian at all. He's actually just from Wales. Regardless, he has a great accent. And the way I figure it, if I am going to have somebody yell at me for an hour about holding the racket wrong and hitting the ball wrong, I might as well listen to somebody with a great accent. 

Now I realize that he is getting paid to teach and encourage me, but I do think I genuinely impressed him when he made me switch my racket to my left hand and hit a bunch of balls left handed. Little did he know that I have practiced being ambidextrous for years! He commented that he thought I had missed my calling and I was meant to be a professional tennis player. 

I replied that there was still time! 

A lovely daydream. I just had a good laugh as I pictured myself trying to return Venus Williams' serve! I can't even return a thirty mile an hour serve! 

I think massage is definitely my calling, but what other callings have I not heeded? What could/ would/ should I have been?

My mom says that one of the things she regrets is that she didn't push us to do more theater when we were kids. And by "more," I mean "any." But what if she had? Nikki B, movie star extraordinaire? I can't see it. 

But Nikki B, tennis star and Wimbledon champion, has a nice ring to it. I can see that. Is it too late? Think of the field day that the media would have with the 29 year old girl who takes up tennis on a whim and becomes a champion. Then I would definitely have something to write for my college newsletter! Hmmm... the fact that nobody thinks it is possible makes me tempted to try it even more. What's the worst that can happen, I don't become a champion but still become good at tennis and get to play all the time? That doesn't sound so bad. Okay, it's official, I am going to become a ranked tennis player with in the next two years. Bring it on! 

That's my lost calling. What is your lost calling? If your life had played out differently, what were you meant to do?

need to step it up a notch

Can I tell you how much I love tennis? Thankfully the weather is getting better so soon I will be able to play more tennis. Once a week just isn't cutting it. 

I've improved a lot but still have a ways to go. I have a client that also happens to be friends with my tennis instructor. She asked my instructor how I was doing. His response? "Nikki is really athletic." Is that sort of the tennis version of saying, "She has a really great personality?" 

So I still can't play tennis worth a damn but at least I'm really athletic (which means I MIGHT someday be good at this game) and most importantly I am having fun. And on the plus side, my racket didn't accidentally go sliding out of my hands (still trying to block last week's lesson from my memory) and halfway across the court today. That's always a good thing! 

things that made me laugh yesterday

People are funny. 

Really, really funny. 

I don't believe in Creationism, but if God did create us, I bet it was just to keep himself constantly entertained by watching us. 

The best part of my job is that I get to deal with people all the time. Yesterday I had amazing clients. Usually I will have a couple of good clients mixed in with a couple of just okay clients and then every once in a blue moon I will get a bad client. But not yesterday. The stars were aligned just right and I had five amazing and funny clients. 

The massages all went well, which is important but they were also cracking me up. The one girl was there because her friends were treating her to a "spa day" because they couldn't make it to her bridal shower. She told me that she had just been laid off yesterday. Later on in the conversation I asked her what she did for a living and she said, "Well I did, blah, blah, blah, but like I said, I got laid off yesterday." And I said, "Doh! I forgot! Sorry to bring that back up." And she jokingly goes, "Yeah, thanks a lot. Totally just ruined this massage!" 

Another client was a bit of a smart ass with a dry sense of humor. When I flipped her over half way through the massage I asked her if she was doing okay. Her response? "There are worse ways I could be spending my time." What made it funny was that she was actually really enjoying the massage. If I didn't know she liked it I might have been a little worried. When she came out of the room at the end I asked her how she was feeling. It is always good to get feedback. Most people respond by saying, "Good," "Great," "Relaxed," "Sleepy," "Sore," "Amazing." But not this girl. Her answer was, "Stoned." Which I have to say, was A) hilarious, and B) the perfect description for how you feel after a good massage.

The last thing that made me laugh wasn't a client, it was a friend I went out to dinner with. When I said something about giving a ninety minute massage he asked, "Ninety minutes straight?!" That cracked me up. I can just imagine telling my clients, "You just lie here, I'm going to go have a little coffee break, I'll be back in ten minutes!" Maybe I should try that today! 

home safe

I made a huge mistake tonight. When a crazy man on the el asked me if I had gum or a breath mint, I actually gave him a piece of gum. What's the harm in that, you might ask? You obviously have never ridden the el late at night. That is when seemingly innocent acts take on much more serious consequences. 

Giving this guy a piece of gum somehow made him my new best friend. And did I  mention that he was crazy? And incoherent? Actually, to be fair, it is possible that he wasn't crazy at all and that everything he said was making perfect sense- I just couldn't understand 2/3 of what he was saying! 

After I foolishly gave him a piece of gum (what was I thinking!?) he decided to thank me by serenading me. His song, which lasted quite a while, went something along the lines of, "If I had the whole world, I'd give it all to you. I'd lay it down at your feet...." That's sort of sweet, right? Well, it would have been if he hadn't followed it up with, "And when you shower, I'll drink all the water. And then (mumble, mumble) your pussy." 

Which of course, (of course!) led him to asking me if I was a model and some mumbling about taking my picture. I was ignoring him the best I could (pretending to listen to my ipod and not laugh.) And then he said something about kissing me. I thought it was best to inform him that I would punch him if he tried to kiss me. He laughed, but I think I got the point across because he stayed away. 

I know better. I do. Why I continue to ride on the el late at night by myself is beyond me. 

What I find interesting though is the different breeds of crazy. This guy was mostly harmless, singing songs, speaking nonsense. I mostly ignored him and it was fine. I ignore most people on the el, and on the streets of Chicago. I do this out of self preservation. I'd guess that it would be fine to talk to about 99% of them, but you never know if the one percent that you are talking to is going to be the one percent that is going to freak out and attack you. 

If I had yelled at the crazy guy on the train and told him to get away from me and stop talking to me, it is possible that he would have just left me alone. It is also possible that it would have just set him off and he would have freaked out and whipped out a knife and stabbed me. You never know. 

I know it's not that interesting of a topic but it is interesting to think of how we alter our actions out of fear. I would act so differently if I were indestructible.