Suzy Says

Public transit, you know, never works well for me. I might as well face the fact that I am a taxi or limo kind of girl (God forbid I should actually drive myself). Yesterday I decided to take the SamTrans bus to the airport to pick up my sister Beth and niece Cat. When I got to the bus stop, the bus was there but all of its signs said “Out of Service”. However, there was: a. a bus driver; and 2. several passengers, so I asked the driver if he went to the airport. He said yes, so I got on board. Off we went. After a while, I began to suspect that this was not the express bus to the airport as originally thought. Lots of stops. Complete avoidance of freeways. For once in my life, I found myself looking longingly at onramp signs. 101! 280! I have misjudged you! All is forgiven!

Fortunately, I had given myself an hour to get the airport, because that’s how long it took. I got there about 10 minutes after the plane had arrived. As usual, I couldn’t find the (huge glass) International Terminal. I had to ask for directions to Arrivals no fewer than three times. I think the same mental block that makes it impossible for me to learn the times tables after 5 also makes it impossible for me to locate the International Terminal and the arrivals hall in it. However, I did discover an actual benefit to all this going to the gym: it has given me the ability to run on two inch heels through an entire (domestic) terminal. Woohoo!

So I arrived finally at, well, Arrivals, only to wait for half an hour before sis’n’niece emerged from Customs. Much screaming and jumping ensued. Cat hasn’t been here for 10 years, so she has essentially never been here. Beth, on the other hand, has been here 3 times in the past 6 months. She ought to get a prize.

Today’s agenda:

– Go to gym;
– Go with my brother to hopefully buy a car for him;
– Go out to dinner for Mom’s birthday;
– Try and stay calm and polite for entire day.

Last one’s the hardest. Stay tuned.

Love/hate for Friday, April 4, 2003
Dawson’s Creek

Since the series is going to end in May, this is as good a time as any to admit that I love it. Even though I’m considerably older than the show’s protagonists or its target demographic.

It probably has something to do with how I never really grew up, and despite the advancing age of my outer husk, the inside Me has pretty much remained somewhere around 18 years old. So I get completely caught up in the character’s romantic entanglements and musings on what to do with their lives. I mean, I’m still wondering what to do with mine.

Granted, there have been a few mis-steps lately, notably with the character of Pacey, played by Joshua Jackson. (I confess that Pacey is my favorite and that I have a crushling on Joshua Jackson, though that goatee and ‘do have made it hard to maintain lately. And while I’m still in the confessional, I think Kerr Smith, who plays Jack, is a total hottie, too. Just call me Mrs. Robinson.) Pacey becoming a stockbroker makes no sense. It couldn’t happen in the real world (yes, I know it’s TV) and it’s completely against his character (yes, I know he’s fictional). They should have let him stay a cook – that lifestyle is much more in his nature, and there are endless story possibilities.

However, I have thoroughly enjoyed Dawson’s entr&eacutee into the film world (despite his affair with the bizarre-looking and annoying actress Natasha) and Audrey’s gloriously over-the-top meltdown this season.

I have every episode on tape and am anxiously awaiting its appearance on DVD (get a move on, willya?!). I recently watched the whole thing again from its very beginning and thoroughly enjoyed it. I still think there’s a lot going on there and that it could have gone on longer (I see no reason why it couldn’t have followed the characters out of college, for example), but I guess it’s better to bow out when you’re still doing a good job than drag it on until the public is begging you to retire. As Neil Young said, “It’s better to burn out/than it is to rust.”