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Past a certain point, it's faster to have the latitude and longitude of your neighbourhood memorized than type in your address to Google maps, assuming you're a cranky sorehead like me and have cookies turned off.
The novelty of getting around exclusively via transit and on foot led me out of the apartment again on Sunday. A lack of change prompted a convoluted initial routing, going to the light rail station to get a day pass from the vending machines, from there to the bus bay on the other side of the neighbourhood, and from there to the nearest strip mall with a barber shop. I got a haircut, bought some erasers, looked for a pay phone to find out when the next bus was, but finding none, I guessed that it would at least show up hourly, and sure enough it did.
At Borders I was perturbed to discover that the manga section seems to be in the middle of being moved from the first to the second floor. I visited Trader Joe's to get chocolate, potatoes, and raisins, the chocolate on the suspicion that the nasty mood problems that seem to come along with it are due to combining it with caffeine. I could have taken a bus more or less straight back home, but I had no idea what the schedule was, so I took the El Camino bus to Mountain View, flipped a coin a few times, and had a late pub lunch. From there I took the light rail back to my neighbourhood, walked through the townhouse complex that has lately sprung up to replace the industrial park that was there when I moved here 8 years ago, and I was home.
While waiting for the light rail, the bus, and the pub service (it turns out that you need to order at the bar, at least when things are slow) I read through Kean Soo's Jellaby (juvenile urban adventure plus fantasy - an interesting combination) and vols. 1 and 2 of Dungeon Parade by Joann Sfar, Lewis Trondheim, and Manu Larcenet (lighter stories with no serious consequences for the larger plot of the series). At home I judiciously worked my way through a 73% cacao bar with roasted almonds and a mug of herb tea, and lay down to experience the shattering revelations in volume 17 of Natsuki Takaya's Fruits Basket. I say "shattering revelations" ironically, because one of the occupational hazards of running a manga and anime image web site is getting spoiled on everything.
Then I fell asleep for 9 hours, and here I am, all set to get on the light rail again. This life of mine is a thrill-a-minute, I know.
