Blogio

For some reason, I've been Facebooking and leaving personal messages on MSN in Welsh. I really don't know why I do it; it's not my fault, I tells ya! Anyway, I must tell you about yesterday's hugely entertaining bus ride, and today's rather disastrous bus ride.

So since there are so many after-school clubs and I never have a lift home if I stay, I've decided to start traveling via train. As of yet, I haven't got lost. Mostly thanks to Priya for her direction-giving and Gareth for his common sense.

But the train part is the normal part; the nearer you get to Caerphilly, the weirder the people become. As I sat in my usual seat, three quarters of the way up the bus just before the steps, old Mrs Beckett got on the bus. And she is one strange character. I would say 'person', but the way she acts, you'd swear she's from a TV show. More specifically, you'd swear she was from The Catherine Tate Show. She is Gran.

She has the laugh, she has the age and, perhaps more importantly, she has an adept ability to complain about everything and talk to everyone. Allow me to give a brief description: She's old, frail-looking, wears a long dark red coat, has white hair, small beady-looking eyes and always takes her trolley with her. Oh, I forgot to mention - she laughs like a witch. Seriously, you've got to hear it.

So she got on the bus and sat down. While we were waiting for the driver, Mrs Beckett decided that the seat she was in wasn't satisfactory as she had "nothing to hold onto." She "likes to have something to hold onto, see." Yes, they are actual quotes; she likes to tell everyone what she's doing, as she's doing it.

After moving, she sat still. Then she moved again, this time to the seat behind a girl who was also on the bus. The girl however, was in Mrs Beckett's capture zone and as soon as Mr Beckett sat down, she was already babbling away to the girl, who looked highly disinterested. Mrs Beckett then began to mention how she has "bad circulation, all the blood do drain from my hands, see and I'm cold all the time." She offered her hand to the girl and said, "Look, have a feel; freezing isn't it?" The girl couldn't care less, but I could tell she was a bit freaked out by Mrs Beckett. She felt Mrs Beckett's hand and said, "Yeah, it's freezing." In a very so-so manner. She didn't care, it was obvious.

As I said, she was freaked out by Beckett, but I've seen her around Abertridwr before, picking up pennies from the bus stop. Don't ask me why, it's one of her weird old-person things. I, then, was familiar with Old Beckett's ways, and so started to laugh uncontrollably. The girl (I feel I should mention that she's a 17 year-old girl, not a young girl. I know her age 'cause Beckett asked her.) saw me laughing and then she started laughing. And at this point, Mrs Beckett was talking about a dog that had been abused or something, but because I was laughing (not at the dog, at the general situation of the girl being stuck with Beckett), the girl was laughing. And then it turned to proper oh-fuck-I-can't-stop laughing. Which is slightly problematic when there's an old person talking to you about a dog that's been abused.

So yeah.

I actually can't be bothered to tell you about the horrible bus ride that was today's trip home, so I'll tell you tomorrow. It's taken me ages to write this post and I honestly don't know how it took me so long.