Blue Route Anniversary

My old commuter route and the inspiration for my blog title, celebrated its 20th anniversary earlier this week. I'm sure it was a huge traumatic and controversial change at the time, but I just can't imagine that area of Philadelphia and the surrounding suburbs without the Blue Route.

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A New Day

I didn't get up at 5am. I didn't go to the gym. I didn't even go to work. And I'm not even sick. It's a really long story, one that I probably won't ever share, but it results in my current state of unemployment. I guess it's more a transition to full-time self-employment. The blossoming of my entrepreneurial skills and the death of my long, dreaded commuting days.

I started this blog because of commuting. A place to store all the randomness that swims around in my head while I'm driving solo gulping down coffee. It's funny because Monday I spent my morning drive thinking of all the things I think about while I'm driving. I had this whole long list of things to rambling on about. Now I can't think of one thing. It's going to require me getting up at the break of dawn and driving around the back country roads every morning just to clear my head. That actually sounds nice. I love, love back country roads. Just endless open space and clear air. I think it's going to be time for a trip to Ohio soon, but I'll resist the urge a few more months just to make sure winter has cleared the midwest.

Since today was my first day 'off' I decided to just take a lazy day. Oddly though I still made a 'To Do' list (maybe I have a little misunderstanding about about laziness!). I got my haircut with all the old ladies, went to Ikea with all the moms and their kids, then had spin class with all the men who apparently have ugly secretaries and are there to stare at the hot teacher and not really to work out. Honestly, I thought the guy next to me was going to straight pass out, the guy to my left didn't even try to exert himself, and the guy in front of me was sweating Jack Daniels from Happy Hour. I think the instructor was well aware of the situation, she even left the lights on and made sure to do a lot of giggling. I can't blame her. I will admit to using my feminine qualities for job security. Overall, it was just weird being 'around' during the day.

I've been psyched for my haircut for weeks now because I set my mind to getting bangs. Thanks to having bad hair for over half my life, I'm not very daring with my hair styles. Bangs are a big deal. I think my hairstylists was more afraid of giving me bangs than I was to ask for them. I don't not like the new style but the 'bangs' are more of shorter layer and not so much full out bangs. I normally wouldn't, but I'm considering going back. What do think?

BEFORE

AFTER

Preparation is key.

For just less than a year, I have been dragging my sleepyhead out of bed at 5am every weekday to go to the gym before work. I have always desired to be that person that got up and worked out before the rest of the day started. I attempted on multiple occasions in college, chiro school, and the early days of my professional life. I'd go for a few days here and there or maybe a few weeks straight if I was really on a roll, but nothing that ever became habit. I came had come to accept that I was just not that person. So what changed? I got tired of wasting minutes upon hours of my life sitting in stupid freakin god forsaken traffic commuting to work.

Last spring we were on the verge of buying this house, which would only prolong my commute until my employer granted me a transfer to the office 20 minutes from the house (which never happened by the way). One day I decided that the best solution was to start working out at the gym near my office before work, which would mean missing at least half of the traffic for even given day. The first day I ventured out in the 5 o'clock hour I felt like someone had granted me wings over night.

Aside from actually getting out of bed, the worst thing about it is dragging all my stuff with me to get ready for work. After 11 months I've become quite the expert...

The first and most important step is preparing the night before. Early morning is no time to be thinking, at all. It's a time for sucking down coffee until your brain catches up with your body and actually wakes up. The night before I iron my clothes, pack my gym bag, and prepare my lunch. Before the Keurig I would also get the coffee pot set up and ready to go.

When it comes to packing the gym bag I recommend doubling up. Just suck it up and buy two of anything that you use on a daily basis for showering or hygiene (shampoo, soap/body wash, lotions, hair products, comb/brush). I even have 2 hair dryers. Although I shower at the gym Monday-Friday, I don't want to be scrambling around finding shampoo if I end up taking a second shower at home or forgetting to repack an item for Monday after a weekend at home. The only thing I don't double up on is my makeup, which I keep separate and swap between home use and the gym bag often.

I have my stuff separated into 3 different bags within my gym bag. Bags within the bag are essential. No one wants to deal with a messy spill. Smaller bags are easier to clean out or just throw away if you have that misfortune. Plus, it protects whatever clothing items may be sharing the space. Bag #1 is my makeup bag (far left). In the second bag I keep all my non showering, non cosmetic products (hair gel, lotion, deodorant, etc). Which leaves us with bag #3, the shower bag.

I use a bag that is actually intended for track shoes, but serves its purpose here very well. It's waterproof, so no problem if my shampoo or conditioner spills; and has straps to hang it from the hook outside the shower stalls at the gym. Also included in bag #3 are the all important shower shoes. I use an old pair of flip flops from Old Navy. They also never leave the shower bag.

So, we've got three smaller bags and my hair dryer so far. I also pack a small, lightweight robe that I got at Marshalls, my towel, work shoes, the unmentionables, and any accessories. My work clothes stay on hangers to avoid wrinkles.

**Don't forget to double check that you have everything before you zip up. Worse case scenario here.**

All packed and ready to go the night before. In the summer I put the bag and my clothes right into the car when it was packed and ready to go, but it's just too dang cold these days for that. I keep my work out clothes and gym bag in our spare bedroom. This avoid me waking up the Mister fumbling around and searching for socks in the dark.

So there you have it. In case you get some insane urge to keep up when there is no sun and drive over an hour to go to the gym to avoid traffic you're all set to go.

Radio

Preset stations in my car

WXPN-public radio station from University of Pennsylvania
WHYY- NPR station
WRTI-classical & jazz station
A classic rock station & 2 other rock/pop stations

Reason I switch stations

Music that makes me sleepy and/or drowsy
Commericals or advertisements
Radio quizzes, contests, or call-ins
Any mention of Sarah Palin

Today

I hate driving in the rain.

I hate driving in the rain in the dark even more.

But driving in the rain, in the dark, in traffic & construction for 2 hours and 18 minutes never traveling over 40 mph even though my entire commute is on highway roads, needing to pee about half way through, and totally starving is the worstest!!!

(yes. I am aware that worstest isn't actually a word)

That is why I'm finishing my second glass of wine...and will probably have a third. Who am I kidding? I'm definitely going to have a third.

No need to judge me friends. Jim is drinking too, so that means I'm not an alcoholic. That's a rule, right?

Plus, every good commuter knows that drinking is the 2nd best way of coping. The first being cigarettes. The obvious, ultimate, supremo choice because you can consume while driving. A direct and immediate reward. Some days I would die for a smoke. Ahh...a deep inhale, an instant tobacco buzz, calmness coursing through your body, the traffic surrounding you just melts away. Somedays I want to yell out my window to the guy smoking in a car next to me. But I know that one will lead to a pack, leading to another pack, and the next thing you know am a smelly, hacking, raspy smoker. No thanks. I'll drink.

On a brighter note, I had an excellent hair day today thanks to a much needed new haircut. I am extremely apprehensive about changing stylist. Curly hair is apparently difficult for a lot of stylist, resulting in many bad haircut and some serious traumatic events, (like the time a girl dry cut my hair!? What the heck was she thinking?!) so I usually avoid it as long as possibly. Liz was my second shot at someone in the this area and she's definitely a keeper.

It's the best haircut I've had in a really long time.
I got a lot of compliments too, which is always nice.
And I really like the jacket/blazer I was wearing today.

In the end the extra good cancelled out the extra bad, leaving me with just another day.

Manic Monday

Start out with a rainy, dreary morning, followed by a 7:00AM dentist appointment, 2 accidents, throw in 1 disabled vehicle, and bridge repairs and you've got a 2 hour and 30 minute commute.

I really love Mondays. (insert sarcasm)

Did I mention there was a spider in the car with me?

Did I mention I've developed a bit of arachnophobia complete with crazy spider dreams?

We have a serious spider infestation.

I can't get into that right now. I can feel my blood pressure rising....

Deep breaths.

sigh...

After a long rainy, humid day I walked in the door looking like this.

I know. You're jealous.

We all can't be blessed with a natural rat's nest that thrives on humidity and moisture.

Jim's one lucky guy.

What's mine is NOT yours.

We have 4 travel mugs in our house. Two of them are absolutely Jim's...they were both given to him as gifts. Of the remaining 2, one is pink (obviously mine) and one was sent free in the mail through a chiropractic association that I belong to, so I'm going to claim it as mine.

I'm really not a mine and yours kind of girl, but in some scenarios it's necessary. Jim is terrible about bringing the travel mugs back. So, he typically ends up with 3 of the 4 mugs at his office or stuffed into the bottom of his bag with mold growing on a damp papertowel inserted into the bottom to absorb in remaining coffee. But he always curtious enough to at least leave the pink one alone. Until today. When I opened the cupboard and there were NO travel mugs!!!!!
Where is MY pink mug?!

It was 5:30 and I was tempted to shake Jim in bed a throw a royal fit. How am I suppose to make it through my hour commute without coffee? It's almost as bad as the time my friend Sarah substituted my morning coffee with decaf. gast!!

But, I'm not that mean and decided I would just prefer to call him out on it to a larger audience (i.e. my blog). And I found the 'free' mug in the dishwasher b/c I had used it yesterday.

You got lucky this time Jim....

Soup to nuts

Yesterday an older-than-me lady in the locker room muttered under her breath oh so subtly something along the lines of, "girls thinking they can expose themselves in front of everyone..." She was referencing me. I know this because I was the only other person in the locker room and she was gumbling at the exact moment I was exposing my breast between the time it takes me to take off my sports bra and close my robe, literally about 2 seconds. I was even still wearing pants and shoes.

Apparently she has never met Naked Lady!

Today commuting was back to normal. Leaving at 5:55 caused me to encounter about 15 minutes in traffic delays, resulting in a total loss of about 20-25 minutes from my normal workout time.
"No soup for you."
Actually only soup for me for lunch today.
Trader Joe's Organic, low sodium tomato and roasted red pepper soup to be exact.
I will consume about 10 gallons of this stuff before winter is over (and it's only their no gluten list!). It's so yummy.
And it was already packed for lunch today and has absolutely nothing to do with the amount of time I spent burning calories this morning. I'm not that psycho.

Although I did recently purchase these really cute skinny jeans from Gap and need to keep my girlish figure at least long enough to wear them once...and preferrably throughout fall and winter.

Wide Open Spaces

I wonder what my life will be like when I don't commute anymore. It has to come someday. My new commute is 55 miles one way straight down 95 past the grand 'ole city of Philadelphia and it just ain't gonna last forever.

I try to get up at 5:00 so I can be on the road around 5:30. Getting on the road before 6:00 is essential to my sanity. Some days I get up a little late, some days I become distracted by some kind of behavior and/or cognative disorder and start putting away or washing dishes, cleaning countertops, or organizing stacks of mail and don't get out the door until 5:45. The closer to the 6 o'clock hour I leave, the more volume starts to pick up and traffic problems defeat the whole purpose of getting up so damn early in the first place.

Today I stayed in bed until almost 5:30. Jim and I were sleeping on an air mattress in the basement because we are banned from the upstairs during the hardwood floor refinishing project. For some reason, I thought this was reason enough to sleep in. I pulled out of the driveway at 5:52. Cutting it a little close for my liking. For some odd reason, there was absolutely NO traffic. Hardly another soul to be seen. Even the traffic reports were all commented on how trouble free the roadways were, essentially having nothing to say except, "guess you could've slept in this morning."

It was so barren that I started to be concerned that I had missed some kind of newsflash about an approaching natural diaster or terrorist threat. Is it Saturday? I am suppose to be at home? Seriously. The roads are never this free and clear during the 6am hour on a Friday unless it's Christmas. I really became alarmed when the paramedic in the passenger seat of the ambulance that was passing me slowed down and he just gawked and gawked. I'm certainly not wearing a skirt or looking dolled up at this point, so there's no real reason to stare unless he wondering why the hell I'm on the road in the first place.

Maybe all the Jews stayed in preparing for Yon Kippur. Maybe everyone drank too much last night and decided to work from home or take a 2 hour delay. Maybe the darkness is finally starting to push peple into early stage seasonal depression. I don't know what was going on. And I'm not really complaining... I'd certainly rather being cruising solo than surrounding by all the crazy loons forging toward the city. I just don't like so much confusion bouncing around in my head so early in the morning.

ShowGirl

Today my worst nightmare came true.

I opened up my gym back after a nice 45 minute cardio work out and started through my routine. I quickly realized I was missing an essential item....my bra!!

At some point in my life this probably wouldn't have been such a big deal. A day of free spirit, hippie loving and dancing through a field of wild daisy. Heck, on most weekends I'm bra-less 75% of the time.... But spending the next 9 hours wearing my doctor hat??!!

I quickly assessed my options....
(Keep in mind that I live a hour away and I'm suppose to be at the office in less than a hour, so stopping back at the house is out of the question.)

1) Wear the sports bra I worked out in. The gross, sweaty, unsupportive square piece fabric all balled up in my gym bag, just didn't seem viable at this point.

2) Go to work with no bra on and hope no one notices. Maybe I could hide it by wearing my white jacket all day...

3) Find the closest Target/Walmart and buy a new, which would most likely result in me being late for work.

I rushed through my shower and out of the gym with no make up, no hair fixin', and no bra, opting for #3. First things first. Where is the closest Target/Walmart? I send a ridiculous text message to my receptionist. no response. I call her until she's annoyed enough to pick up. She's laughing. "Get yourself a bra girl!"

and I did. Three actually. Fearing that one wouldn't right and I had no time for trying on. I chose a neutral cotton one by Gilligan & O'Malley. It's rather nice actually.

A Story for Another Day...

Have you seen The Wire?

No?! I recommended it almost a year ago! Why are you even reading if you're not planning to follow my advice?

Well, this post probably won't resonate as much if you haven't either
A) seen The Wire
B) lived or worked in the ghetto

If neither apply I recommend coming back to read the rest after you've accomplished one or the other....

My office is located in a lower income area. The office itself is in an Ok part of the city. It's not great, but it's Ok. Especially in the daylight. After dark it gets a bit questionable. (Let's just say it's not uncommon to find used syringes, dime bags, random articles of clothing, or even a homeless man in the dark corner of our parking lot). Leaving the office, in route to the highway, is a different story. It involves 10 long blocks down 4th Street.

Barred windows and porches.
Exchanges. Pass-offs. Runners.
Long deliberate hand shakes.
Desperate faces. Searching, begging, needing.
Gatherings in a sketchy chinese take-out place.
An occasional Escalade or a car with a really nice rims delayed on the side street.

(And that's just what I've observed with guick glances each night. I'm not exactly gawking)

In the winter, when it's pitch dark on my way home, I locked my door and pray to hit all the green lights.

Now that it's staying light longer, there are still loads of little kids running around and the roughest of the crowd hasn't taken over. The corners are still full, but the vibe is better. Safer. I allow myself to keep my window down. (I don't think the window matters really. If I'm in the way of some stray gun fire, a little glass isn't going to help.)

A few weeks ago on the first nice night, I was cruising down 4th Street enjoying the fact that there was still sunlight and a nice warm breeze. It seemed to hit me that my normal choice of music is not exactly appropriate for the neighborhood. Being a me (white. women.) is bad enough. I'm not really trying to draw extra attention to myself with Bob Dylan blaring from my Subaru.

So, I asked one of the guys from work if he could get me some rap music. After a bit of discussion of my choices (of which include a copy of an ex-employee, shirt less on the front of his debut album) I decided on Paper Trail.

And that is how I came to own a copy of the latest T.I. CD for my evening cruise down 4th Street...

Gym bag

I'm in the market for a new gym bag. I'm planning a 360 on my morning routine by getting a gym membership in grand ole Delaware. Yes, that means getting up early, driving 1 hr to the gym, working out, showering in a possibly crudy gym locker room, then straight to the office.

Major positive, I'll be missing all the traffic jams. Major negative, I'll be lugging around all my make-up, hair-dryer, and work clothes (that will have to be planned out and ironed ahead of time!). Hence, the need for a new gym bag.

This one seems practical with all it's little compartments and pre-locker shape. But, honestly I think it's ugly.

This Puma bag definitely scores better in terms of style, but I think a little too small for all my stuff.

Sherpani has a full line of bags of every shapes and size. I'm partial to this messenger bag with lots of pockets and an external strap for a yoga mat. Bonus: it's made from 67% recycled fabric...and FREE SHIPPING. I do love a a bargain.

Decisions, decisions.

Yesterday I decided on a classical music station to help sooth my morning road rage. Good Decision.

When the station signal faded I switched over to the T.I. CD one of the drivers from work let me borrow for my evening cruise down 4th Street (a story for another day...) Nothing like a little bass pumping rap before 9am to clear your head. Good Decision (although I'll admit a bit unusual for me)

I went to Target without my list. Bad Decision. Have you ever tried to share one roll of toilet paper with your husband in two separate bathroom? Not to mention that morning coffee is like our substitute for fiber. enough said.

I attempted to attack Jim in some kind of playful 'monkey on your back, head lock' move in the kitchen. Somehow I manage to flip myself over and land straight on my back. That's right I manged to flip myself. Jim was standing completely still. Bad decision.

Ordering the chop salad at Solaris. My best decision in the last 24 hours. "chopped asparagus, snap peas, cucumber, avocado, bleu cheese, bacon, roasted red peppers and a balsamic vinaigrette." It is heaven. There was no sharing.

Commuting. Construction. Chaos.

Last night was my first evening drive in what seems like years when I had the window day, the music blaring, and my sunglasses on. Commuting is so much more bearable when there is actually daylight and fresh air!

Thanks to a little channel surfing my playlist included: Fleetwood Mac, DMB, Ween, She & Him, SugarRay, The Fruit Bats, Billy Joel, Bob Marley, The Allman Brothers, Michael Jackson, Charday, some Indie pop bands , and some oldies that I either can't remember or just don't know. It was a solid 45 minutes of loud off key shouting, mumbling through the lyrics I don't know but pretend to, and steering wheel drumming. I'm sure I was quite the sight for my fellow commuters. But, I didn't care. Sunny skies after 6pm make me a little crazy.

(image courtesy of waltsense.com)

Today was a different story. There is major construction on the Blue Route. There has been construction in the same area for quite some time now. I'm typically fairly tolerable to construction. I come from a construction family.

Union men. Men who rise early, drive far, eat from a 'bucket', come home dirty, and are disappointed without 20 hours of overtime. It is part of the reason I didn't starve to death as a child (Thanks Kokosing!). It is the reason my little niece and nephew aren't currently starving to death and instead are prancing around like little GapKids models in sweater vests and fashion denim (shout out to my big brother and Beaver Excavating. woot woot).

But, today I hate construction. I hate new traffic patterns and cattle shoot lanes. I hate commuting even when there's daylight and fresh air. I can't even care about all the little kids not starving because there are what seems like hundreds of hard hats and fluorescent vests working.

The first 3-4 miles of my morning journey now will likely take 20-25 minutes. There's really no avoiding it. Today is a bad day for my relationship with suburbia. If this relationship doesn't start being a little more about give and take, I might have to consider moving on.

Bah Humbug

I really could just spend the day in my sweats, drinking hot tea, and reading The Stand. But that is just a dream. I'm about to force myself into neatly pressed trousers and a turtleneck sweater and inch my way to Delaware. Everyone in the office is restless about the holidays and demonstrating terrible work ethic. I will have to be stern and force them to actually work instead of texting and lounging near the cookie trays. I hate being in charge some days. I hate commuting every day. Somehow (that I have yet to understand) the holidays directly effect the traffic.

Last week....

Thursday AM- 55 minutes (average commute time)

Thursday PM- 2 hrs 25 minutes

Friday AM- 1hr 40 minutes

I thought about quitting that day.

Begger

On my way home from work there's often a homeless guy standing on the side of the road near a red light. I've seen him there 2-3 times a week for a while now. I've always kinda felt bad for him. He's elderly and has a bad arm probably from spastic cerebral palsy. His cardboard sign ask for food or money.

I NEVER give money to homeless people (street musicians are different). But, I do have a soft spot for feeding people. On several occasions he was right next to my window and I had nothing to offer. A few weeks ago (I'm a bit behind on my blogging!) I had an untouched granola bar on the passenger seat. I rolled down my window feeling good about my offering.

In a rough, husky voice, " I have about 10 of them."

Pausing to compute the denial, "F**king beggers can't be choosers! never again man. NEVER!!"

Unbelievable.

A few days later I saw a neighborhood women yelling at the man and taking pictures of him and the street sign. He hasn't been there since. I guess he's been run off his corner. Good.

Stupid jerk.

World Cafe

In an effort to be more positive, 2-3 days/week I have the pleasure of listening to World Cafe on my drive home.

"new and significant music and the artist who create it."

It's a fantastic program based here in Philadelphia at WXPN (of which I am a proud member!) hosted by David Dye. It broadcast on NPR nationwide daily (M-F).

Today feature Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears a great blues-rock band based out of Texas. They've got some great tunes on the recent release Tell 'Em What Your Name Is.

Goodbye PA

Exiled.

Banished.

Forsaken.

Cast away

To a far away land....

I have been transferred on a permanent, full time basis to our Wilmington, DE office. That's right, Delaware. Another state from the one I reside in. Far, far away. 95 south is now an added part of my DAILY commute. I will go quietly, with my head down and my tail between my legs.

In order to survive my new fate, I am making a list of necessary supplies including many books on tape, a radar detector, a larger travel mug, and Rosetta Stone (a high percentage of spanish speaking patients is just one of the many selling point....)

In the meantime I will make a stronger cup of joe and borrow some CD's. I've also found this helpful website to aid me quest for bilinugualism.

Roadside Spectacle

The morning commute is never the same. I leave my house every morning anxious about what I'm about the endure on the 20 mile journey to the office. Some mornings I inhale deeply as I approach the on ramp to the Blue Route and can let out a huge sigh of relief as a line of swiftly moving vehicles comes into site. That's usually a sign that the rest of the drive will be a breeze. Other days I can't even see the highway and I'm already creeping along and gripping the steering wheel with a hint of aggression.

Overall I've become immune to it either way. I eat my banana, turn up the radio, stay alert and attentive, and just drive until I get to the office. I've observed that there are two general categories of drivers I encounter during the daily expedition.

1) The Jerks. Including but not limited to tailgating, quick and excessive lane changing, late merging, speeding particularly in unsafe areas such as construction zones, and driving on the shoulder. This category often includes a large number of Lexus, Benz, and BMW drivers. For some reason it's assumed (by them) that wherever they are heading is far more important than where I'm heading.

2) Sucks to be You. These folks would be your flat tire, smoking engines, unable to merge in a tough spot, and accident victims. The overall bad day kinda stuff.

Last week I spotted a guy I just can't place in either. He was traveling in a truck that was covered with the logo for some moving company, so I assume he was working. The traffic was actually moving along nicely that day, probably averaging 40-45 mph. There was a huge sign clearly within in view " Exit 3 Media/Swartmore. 1/2 mile." All the sudden he changes into the right lane then proceeds to pull off onto the shoulder. He gets out of the truck and pees on the side of the road! I don't need to see this kind of stuff at 8:30am. Man up and hold it or pull off at the next exit. It's not like were in the middle of the PA turnpike and the next exit is 30 miles away. Men!

Saturday Blues

I've been working for a long time, since I was responsible enough to watch someone elses kids and tall enough to reach to push a lawn mower. And, for as long as I can remember that included Saturdays. In fact "about one third of employed Americans work Saturday..."

Somewhere along the road I discovered the luxury of not working on Saturdays. It's not so much the getting up part...but there's something about ironing a shirt, putting on dress pants, heels, jewelry, making sure it all matching, and taking the time and effort into my hair that just feels wrong on a Saturday morning. Although it's only ever other week, it's definitely the biggest con of my new job. To make it even worse I have to work in Delaware, which means a 45 minute commute southbound on the Blue Route to Rt 95. I have some concerns that once summer hits this will be intertangled with weekend traffic to the Delaware beaches. I may have to start self-medicating at that point.