The Cool Group

Typical seats on the train.

The Coaster train has a hierarchy, which, in my observation, is in direct inverse correlation to how cool you were in high school. The "popular" crowd tends to be on the nerdy side, not very trendy, and pretty boring when it comes to conversation topics. (I know because you can generally hear every conversation in your vicinity when on the train.)

The regulars have their usual seats on the train, and all share a similar characteristic that leads to my comparison to high school cliques: a complete disregard for others around them. They are loud and assuming, and show a disdain for non-regular riders who invade their space. This is especially true for those new or infrequent riders who show complete ignorance when it comes to seating. These regulars have their favorite spots, and become quite upset when those seats are taken, usually loudly proclaiming to their group, "Seems like our spot is taken" or "We'll have to find a different place to sit today." Or, worse (for the unsuspecting rider), they will just sit next to him/her, surrounding the person on all sides with their loud, boring chatter.

I lucked out because my Mom had been riding the Coaster for almost a year before I started riding, and I generally knew that the regulars had their favorite car and favorite seats. My first week I sat quietly and observed, figuring out all of the anthropological undertones. As a regular myself now, I don't belong to any "group." Most riders, in fact, don't. I sit by my Mom or Dad when they ride the train, or a coworker who also sometimes rides. But, generally, I sit by myself and read or sleep.

I had a chance to join a group in the beginning, and even sat with them a couple of times, but decided that I valued my time more than talking to these strangers who I generally didn't have much in common with. (To leave the group unobtrusively, I actually had to start riding in a different car.)

For any of you who may think it sad that I don't have any "train friends," see above for my description of them. I think the nerdy group in high school finally found their place to be cool. I, for one, am happy to avoid them, and let them revel in their popular status.

It's Not How You Feel...

My Coach bag.

When I worked at home, I wore fleece — every day. If it was a hot day, I would wear shorts and a T-shirt. I have a whole closet full of cotton T-shirts, fleece pants, and comfy pajama bottoms. I no longer wear any of these. After my first week of work in the "real world," I quickly realized that I would need an entire closet full of new clothes. The three pairs of nice pants and handful of corporate-type tops I had for the occasional work event that required "grown-up" clothes were not going to get me through even the first month of my new job. I needed to go shopping.

After spending more than a few hundred dollars on new work clothes, I felt I was good for a while. I supplemented these new items with two new nice coats (I only had sweatshirts and casual jackets) and a few pairs of shoes. I was set. During about my third week of commuting, a woman sat across from me on the train who was really put together. Her hair and clothes and shoes were all polished and flattering. I tried not to stare too much, but I wanted to take it all in to see if this was something that I could imitate. It was then that I noticed her bag. It was beautiful. Big, shiny, black, modern. The inside was this beautiful burgundy. I coveted her bag. Upon closer inspection, I realized why: It was Coach.

Great, I thought, no way I can afford that. I looked dismally at my functional canvas briefcase. Sigh... When I got home that night, I immediately went online to find out how much such a bag would put me out. For a large bag, the cost was around $400. Yikes. I put aside any hopes of being in the chic commuter crowd.

Months later, while shopping with my sister at an outlet mall, I noticed that there was a sale going on at the Coach outlet. When I walked in, I found out that they were handing out coupons for an additional 30 percent off. Wow, I thought, this could really be in my grasp. I walked to the back of the store where all good bargain shoppers know the real sales are. In the back corner was a shelf with bags that were 50 percent off, in addition to the coupon I had. After rummaging through tacky yellow bags or ones with too many logos, I found it — the large black leather bag of my dreams. There was only one left, and I grabbed it immediately. Even though the bag was on sale and I had a coupon, this still wouldn't be a $40 purchase. I had to be emotionally ready to put down a good chunk of change for what amounted to a glorified purse. I am not the type to do this sort of thing. I don't think I'd ever even spent more than $20 on a purse before. But, since I was now a commuter with a job downtown, I needed to look the part.

After years of wearing fleece all day and not even carrying a purse, I wanted to make the full transition into being a real "working woman." I wanted a Coach bag. So, I bought the bag and have not had one ounce of buyer's remorse. I carry it every day on the train and can feel good about how I look and the image I present. This may seem petty or vain, but it's part of what helps me get through the day. I am woman, see my bag.

Yes, I Really Can

Home office desk gathering dust.

I worked from home for 7 years. And, yes, it was really great. I went to the gym at 1:30 in the afternoon when no one else was there and watched Guiding Light or re-runs of Charmed while running on the treadmill. I got all of my errands done in the middle of the day and had no trouble scheduling appointments; I didn't have to wrangle with the receptionist about when I could come in and if my boss would let me leave early and how long would it all take. I got to write off the square footage of my office for my taxes. I got to sleep in and stay up late. I had the life. Until I got a call one January morning from my boss saying that the magazine that we were editors for (Fitness Management) is no longer being published, and we were all fired. We had two days to wrap things up.

One year and four months later, I am working in an office and have a 1-hour commute each way (by train). No more gym-time in the middle of the day or easy appointment-making. One good thing that has come out of this (besides a paycheck and time to read War and Peace) is that the train is a never-ending source of entertaining, amusing, and interesting people. Like the towel guy and the big hair woman and my secret crush guy (I will get to these in some later post).

For now, I tell myself that I enjoy being out in the world instead of being holed up in my condo with my cat and Mac computer. I am ready to face "the man" and see what it's really like to be a working stiff. But really, I am just trying to figure out when the hell I can fit in my dentist appointment.

Stay tuned....