9, 55, 29, Y, 56?

I can't believe it. I finally had the bus system all worked out...at least I knew which bus I needed to get into Geneva and what to take to get back to CERN or Sergy. I knew which buses took me to the places I normally go in Geneva and now the damn city has gone and messed it all up! I mean, what do they think they're doing trying to make public transportation more efficient? I understood it the old way, I don't want to have to relearn it all over again! But, alas, change can not be halted. There are new bus numbers with new routes (although the # 56 bus route was suspiciously similar to the old # 9 route - exactly the same really) and now I have to suffer through the anxiety of relearning how to get anywhere. I know what you are thinking, "why on earth does she have anxiety over something so trivial?" Trust me I sit there with clenched teeth, heart pumping asking myself the exact same thing. The only conclusion that I can come to is that I am a super freak. That's really what it boils down to. I mean, let's look at this rationally, yes, it is annoying to have to figure out a new bus system, but no, it should not cause heart palpitations. What is the worst thing that could happen? I get on the wrong bus and have to call Josh (I did forget my cell phone today, so I had no means to call in back up and since I also forgot my watch I had no way of knowing the time) or don't call Josh and find the right bus. So, it might cost me some time, but it's not going to cause me any serious problems or life long damage. Yet, I still sit there clenching my teeth.
To distract myself from said teeth clenching I observed the people around me. It was an amusing day. First, 2 young men got on board. I should say one leaned through the door saying at the top of his voice, "Bonjour Monsieur (he was talking to the bus driver) Bonne Annee! est-ce que vous arretez a la Servette?" (or something to the effect of, "do you stop at Servette?"). The driver must have replied in the affirmative because he then proceeded to hang out the door waving frantically at his friend yelling "this is it" (or something like that - it was French give me a break). The two stumbled into the quickly crowding bus open beer cans in hand. Now, I ask you, would you ever see something like that in the States? I think not. But these two were having a great day swillin' the beer, talking loudly, and forgetting to get off the bus at the right stop! Hee, hee, hee.
I also seemed to notice that most people - the booze friendly duo excluded- seem to have a neutral face that frowns. You know what I mean? Like, if you are just sitting on the bus minding your own business, not actively smiling, does your mouth droop down at the corners giving you a perpetual sour puss? Everyone on that darn bus looked like a sour puss and I started thinking, "Is that what I look like too?" I hope not. In fact, hold on a minute I'm going to go check it out in the mirror...phew, I think I'm safe. you know you are dying to go check out your neutral face in the mirror. Well, if you discover you are a frowner I'd advise exploring some ways to change that. I have seen the saggy, wrinkled, frowny face of your future and it is NOT pretty.

Which brings me to my favorite person on the bus today. I like to think of her as "Leopard Lady". If only I had had my camera, perhaps I could have surreptitiously taken her picture and shared this amazing site with you. First off I immediately noticed the leopard print stretch pants. It's impossible for your eye not to drawn to such a sight. I had to force myself not to openly stare as I took in the tres chic brown knee-high boots -seriously, I think I'm the only woman in this region not wearing a pair - of course the leopard pants were paired with the ever stylish puffy white jacket adorned with numerous gold buckles and a large fringe of white fur around the collar. When I glanced over for my third...er...maybe fourth or fifth, peek I saw two beady little eyes encased in folds of skin and gold rimmed glasses staring at me. She soon bent her head of thinning blond hair back to the Matin Bleu (the free Geneva newspaper scattered on every bus and tram in the city) which she had previously been reading. I don't know if she was enthralled by French President Nicolas Sarkosy's immanent engagement to a former model or what but something sure had her attention! She held the paper about 2 inches from her squinty little myopic eyes. hmmmm...is there an English major out there? I think I might have used the word myopic wrong? oh well, it sounds kinda cool...so I'm just going to leave it. Anyways, the other thing I loved about "Leopard Lady" was that she had this HUGE shopping bag at her feet and I could see that it was filled with something brown and furry! At first glance I was sure she had a medium sized dog in there - a very well behaved dog at that. But, then I thought that it was probably a throw pillow. I don't know what it's like where you are but here women are crawling with fur. Fur coats, fur trimmed hats, gloves, etc. Furry looking pillows, blankets, rugs. It's kinda creepy to me. I swear to you about 85% of those women are wearing REAL fur. OK, OK I really have no clue if it's real or not, but some of those elegantly, expensive ladies are no doubt sportin' the real deal. I just don't think PETA would let Americans get away with such flaunting of skinned, furry creatures - but what do I know?
When a woman sat down across from me with a large handbag made of fur I could see "Leopard Ladie's" eyes light of with greed. She stared longingly at the furry satchel a glint of envy shining behind those thick lenses. I swear I even saw her lick her lips. No doubt to keep the drool at bay as she plotted how she, "Leopard Lady" could obtain such a purse, only hers would, of course, be made from a leopard.
rrrrrrroooooowwwww