All Aboard the 8:06

Our story begins with me sitting between two strange men on a bench at the train station.  The man on my right is sporting New Balance shoes, light wash jeans and a button up shirt.  The man on my left is wearing black Converse shoes with red laces.  He's reading the newspaper.  Those are all the details I can give you because staring at strangers beyond your peripheral vision is weird. 

Across the aisle from me is a strange personage, being part gangster, part hipster, and part emo.  Read: sweats and basketball shoes, fabulous grey striped scarf and aviators and black fingerless gloves.  I can hear his music across the aisle.  If I can hear your music across the aisle of a train barreling toward the city, you'd do well to turn it down before you lose your hearing altogether.  I made a poor choice in sitting backwards at the back of the car. 

The reason I'm sitting on the 8:06 express train to the city is I'm going to pick up Amberly from the airport!  Yay, visitors!  She's coming down from Jakarta for a week.  She's doing an study abroad program there, and we went to university together in the States. 

Upon my arrival at the airport, I commenced pacing up and down the airport terminal whistling anxiously.  [my family and close friends have a whistle signal that gets used at school, home, and occasionally the grocery store.]  As I didn't see Amberly waiting in the crowded arrival area, I paced up and down the length of the waiting area, occasionally letting out a shrill whistle.  This did draw some puzzled looks, but I was determined to find my guest. 

Out the door and down the walk she came from the international jungle known as customs.  Dark brown curls bouncing and luggage in tow, scanning the crowd for a familiar face.  Then she saw me and we did the jr. high girl/college girl reunion squeal and she pushed through the waiting throng before we hugged the air out of each other.  We took the bus to the train to the bus to get home, where we ate lunch, which temporarily stemmed the steady stream of the latest news from home.  (Quesadillas can make even me stop talking for a period of time.)

We spent the week playing with little kids, reminiscing about our OBU days, and eating great food.  We got to hang out with friends in the city and friends in town.  We cooked and laughed and watched Downton Abbey.  It was wonderful to have company for a week that didn't really feel like company.  SG and I loved having her.

At 5:32am a week later, Am and I were standing, shivering next to the bus stop.  We rode the bus to the train station, amazed at how many crazy people get on the bus at that ungodly hour of the morning.  The train zipped us right to the city, where I put Am on the bus to the airport.  I was sad to see her go. 

I powerwalked my way to the Queen Victoria Market, an enormous collection of vendors of anything you'd want to buy.  I wandered up and down the rows of the fruit and veggie vendors.  Somehow I ended up with a bag of apples, mandarins, grapes and snow peas.  In need of some more substantial breakfast than the apple I ate on the train, I bought a cinnamon doughnut and a flatbread.  Nom.  Back to the train, to the bus, to playgroup, where I took up my usual post at the playdough table. 

Time flies, 

Little Miss Sunshine