I am not happy about a snowstorm in February, but I can't deny it was beautiful.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Bus People
I have joined a "very exclusive" group of commuters who take the bus. Although it is, at times, dis-heartening and disgusting, smelly, and oMG WHAT IS THAT ON THE SEAT?!, I find that taking the bus gives me a certain smugness that I can take with me throughout the day, knowing that by not driving I am a much better steward of the earth than all my friends and fools out there driving their gas-guzzling, take up the entire road, beasts of vehicles.
You all suck, btw. And just so you know, the fastest way to make me fall into a year-long, eyeball-rolling induced coma is to bother me with some petty bullshit excuse about "needing the space because we have a car seat (elephant, drums, dead body)" to cart around. I have a two-door hatchback, am 6 marvelous feet tall, and have managed for years to cart around nieces and nephews, their car seats, and various child accoutrements with no difficulty. Yes, I had to push the front seat forward to get to the back, my gawd, I don't know how I managed. Also, I've had a lawn mower in my car. That still impresses me.
Anyway, riding the bus has given me a new perspective on things. Sometimes I ride the bus and really, really hate people. Sometimes there are evenings where I see simple acts of kindness. True, heart-stopping kindness, that make me a little verklempt. Sometimes there are beautifully odd moments that feel like a scene from a movie. Sometimes I almost burst out in laughter (more about old man Bob another day).
Today wasn't any of those. I ride one of two bus lines, depending on what I have going on after work. Today I hopped a popular line that is always full. I recognized the bus driver, a lady who is a bit too chatty, and is best friends with about half the people on the bus. When I got on it was standing room only, so I stood in the front by the driver, and got an up-close look at how absolutely distracted she is hurtling that bus down the road at frightening speeds. At one point she had almost disappeared underneath the steering wheel, trying to fish something out of her purse all while carrying on a conversation with another passenger.
Halfway along the route, we came up to a convenience store. On more than one occasion this bus driver has stopped the bus, hopped out, and gone in to get something to eat. This isn't uncommon on the Indy bus routes. I think the drivers have to take occasional breaks while working (once in a snow storm, the bus driver told us she had to pee, really, really bad, and hoped we wouldn't mind that she had to pull over.). Today as we rolled up, I "noticed" 5 cops cars in the parking lot, a man handcuffed, and a police officer sticking a cigarette in the cuffed man's mouth and lighting it. The bus driver pulled up and opened the door.
Bus Driver: Hey boo, what's going on?!!!
Cuffed Man: You tell ma mama, FUCK YOU!
Cop: HEY SHUT THE HELL UP
Bus Driver: Aw no, fool, I ain't gonna say that to her.
Soon to be convicted felon: Nah, you tell her I said, FUCK YOU! (he never lost the cigarette in his mouth as he stood there cuffed and screaming)
Cop: I SAID SHUT UP
Bus Driver: Aw, Boo, I'm gonna let her know what's up. I'll see you around. (really, really, you're gonna see him around?!!)
And then she continued on with the bus route, driving with her head below the dash, digging out her cell phone to call this man's mother.
"Hey, your boy is at the Super8 cuffed with cops all around him. I dunno what he did, but it don't look good. .."
You all suck, btw. And just so you know, the fastest way to make me fall into a year-long, eyeball-rolling induced coma is to bother me with some petty bullshit excuse about "needing the space because we have a car seat (elephant, drums, dead body)" to cart around. I have a two-door hatchback, am 6 marvelous feet tall, and have managed for years to cart around nieces and nephews, their car seats, and various child accoutrements with no difficulty. Yes, I had to push the front seat forward to get to the back, my gawd, I don't know how I managed. Also, I've had a lawn mower in my car. That still impresses me.
Anyway, riding the bus has given me a new perspective on things. Sometimes I ride the bus and really, really hate people. Sometimes there are evenings where I see simple acts of kindness. True, heart-stopping kindness, that make me a little verklempt. Sometimes there are beautifully odd moments that feel like a scene from a movie. Sometimes I almost burst out in laughter (more about old man Bob another day).
Today wasn't any of those. I ride one of two bus lines, depending on what I have going on after work. Today I hopped a popular line that is always full. I recognized the bus driver, a lady who is a bit too chatty, and is best friends with about half the people on the bus. When I got on it was standing room only, so I stood in the front by the driver, and got an up-close look at how absolutely distracted she is hurtling that bus down the road at frightening speeds. At one point she had almost disappeared underneath the steering wheel, trying to fish something out of her purse all while carrying on a conversation with another passenger.
Halfway along the route, we came up to a convenience store. On more than one occasion this bus driver has stopped the bus, hopped out, and gone in to get something to eat. This isn't uncommon on the Indy bus routes. I think the drivers have to take occasional breaks while working (once in a snow storm, the bus driver told us she had to pee, really, really bad, and hoped we wouldn't mind that she had to pull over.). Today as we rolled up, I "noticed" 5 cops cars in the parking lot, a man handcuffed, and a police officer sticking a cigarette in the cuffed man's mouth and lighting it. The bus driver pulled up and opened the door.
Bus Driver: Hey boo, what's going on?!!!
Cuffed Man: You tell ma mama, FUCK YOU!
Cop: HEY SHUT THE HELL UP
Bus Driver: Aw no, fool, I ain't gonna say that to her.
Soon to be convicted felon: Nah, you tell her I said, FUCK YOU! (he never lost the cigarette in his mouth as he stood there cuffed and screaming)
Cop: I SAID SHUT UP
Bus Driver: Aw, Boo, I'm gonna let her know what's up. I'll see you around. (really, really, you're gonna see him around?!!)
And then she continued on with the bus route, driving with her head below the dash, digging out her cell phone to call this man's mother.
"Hey, your boy is at the Super8 cuffed with cops all around him. I dunno what he did, but it don't look good. .."
Monday, December 21, 2009
So This Is Where I Officially Lose My Soul...
...because I'm going to mock my family.
Old photos are horrifying. To me. I can't figure out why. I hate history, I hate learning about it, hate hearing about it, and detest looking at old photos. Why? I don’t know, maybe in a way it’s a reminder of how insignificant I am and that we’re all going to die. Sure, it’s a bit of a leap, but that’s how the gears turn in my head. It’s all about me, and how eventually I am going to die.
Today in my inbox was a link. Someone in the family had uploaded a bunch of old pics online. As I scrolled through the photos two things were immediately clear – one was that most of the photos were terrible and I could barely tell if there were people in the pictures, the contrast was non-existent. The second revelation was that, of the photos where I could detect relatives, I decided I wasn’t sure I wanted to be related to any of the odd-looking anorexic bobble-heads, because Oh My Gawd, my aunts, mom, and uncle were seriously underfed.
So skinny. So so skinny. All razor-sharp elbows and knee caps jutting out from heads that look 3-times too large for their stick-figure bodies, with too-large facial features. I’m not so sure if I should be worried that my mother was anorexic, or if grandma had a close encounter of the freaky kind and genetically I am one-quarter alien species. You decide.
Old photos are horrifying. To me. I can't figure out why. I hate history, I hate learning about it, hate hearing about it, and detest looking at old photos. Why? I don’t know, maybe in a way it’s a reminder of how insignificant I am and that we’re all going to die. Sure, it’s a bit of a leap, but that’s how the gears turn in my head. It’s all about me, and how eventually I am going to die.
Today in my inbox was a link. Someone in the family had uploaded a bunch of old pics online. As I scrolled through the photos two things were immediately clear – one was that most of the photos were terrible and I could barely tell if there were people in the pictures, the contrast was non-existent. The second revelation was that, of the photos where I could detect relatives, I decided I wasn’t sure I wanted to be related to any of the odd-looking anorexic bobble-heads, because Oh My Gawd, my aunts, mom, and uncle were seriously underfed.
So skinny. So so skinny. All razor-sharp elbows and knee caps jutting out from heads that look 3-times too large for their stick-figure bodies, with too-large facial features. I’m not so sure if I should be worried that my mother was anorexic, or if grandma had a close encounter of the freaky kind and genetically I am one-quarter alien species. You decide.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Re: the comments
I got a few complaints about having to sign-in to comment, so I've disabled that feature now and you (hopefully) can comment at will without any tedious hoop jumping.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
I'm reading, y'all.
So I haven't really gotten into the blog groove of late, and I feel crappy about that, cause I have things to say! And stories! Because I ride the City friggin Bus, y'all. My immune system is growing by leaps and bounds. BRING ON THE SWING FLU, BITCHES!
Ok, I'm a bit crazed with the exclamation points right now (!!!!!!!!!!).
Aside from interactions with people I didn't know existed - ! Dude, a big black man twice my height and my girth asked me if he could smoke in the bus shelter and I was like "DUDE, You can't smoke in here, do it outside," and HE DID. Last week an old drunk yelled at me to sit down and I yelled right back that I didn't want to sit cause I'd been doing it all day. And he shut the f*ck up. Apparently I have powers over the impoverished yet rude people of the city. - wait, what was I talking about? Oh right, I have had plenty of time to start reading again. Something I haven't done in about 5 years. I'm currently juggling two.
The first is by Bruce Campbell, of "Evil Dead" fame. I am enjoying it, because he is a hilarious writer (or his ghost writer is). My only complaint is he drags on in certain sections describing movie camera shit that is not at all interesting to me. But I read and re-read the parts about growing up with his brothers. Growing up with brothers, as it turns out, isn't all that different from growing up with sisters, in that we all just pounded the crap out of each other while our parents tried to balance the checkbook.
If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of B Movie Actor
The other one is more serious in nature, "Hungry," by Crystal Renn, who is now a plus-sized model. I thought the beginning dragged, but it held me captive because she grew up in a situation similar to other people I know. And let me tell you, being tall I had my share of people saying I should model (because I was tall, I'd like to point out, never because they thought I was pretty) (assholes) and reading this is chilling me to the bone and making me beyond thankful I never really tried. I thought I had some body image issues - but I wasn't 98-pound teenager being told by adults to loose weight. This book is heart-wrenching and infuriating and absolutely fascinating.
Hungry: A Young Model's Story of Appetite, Ambition and the Ultimate Embrace of Curves
So what are you reading?
Ok, I'm a bit crazed with the exclamation points right now (!!!!!!!!!!).
Aside from interactions with people I didn't know existed - ! Dude, a big black man twice my height and my girth asked me if he could smoke in the bus shelter and I was like "DUDE, You can't smoke in here, do it outside," and HE DID. Last week an old drunk yelled at me to sit down and I yelled right back that I didn't want to sit cause I'd been doing it all day. And he shut the f*ck up. Apparently I have powers over the impoverished yet rude people of the city. - wait, what was I talking about? Oh right, I have had plenty of time to start reading again. Something I haven't done in about 5 years. I'm currently juggling two.
The first is by Bruce Campbell, of "Evil Dead" fame. I am enjoying it, because he is a hilarious writer (or his ghost writer is). My only complaint is he drags on in certain sections describing movie camera shit that is not at all interesting to me. But I read and re-read the parts about growing up with his brothers. Growing up with brothers, as it turns out, isn't all that different from growing up with sisters, in that we all just pounded the crap out of each other while our parents tried to balance the checkbook.
If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of B Movie Actor
The other one is more serious in nature, "Hungry," by Crystal Renn, who is now a plus-sized model. I thought the beginning dragged, but it held me captive because she grew up in a situation similar to other people I know. And let me tell you, being tall I had my share of people saying I should model (because I was tall, I'd like to point out, never because they thought I was pretty) (assholes) and reading this is chilling me to the bone and making me beyond thankful I never really tried. I thought I had some body image issues - but I wasn't 98-pound teenager being told by adults to loose weight. This book is heart-wrenching and infuriating and absolutely fascinating.
Hungry: A Young Model's Story of Appetite, Ambition and the Ultimate Embrace of Curves
So what are you reading?
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