Tuesday, March 21, 2006

What is it about my face?

I got on the bus today and recognized the bus driver. He's the friendly guy. He knows my name. He knows everyone's name. He can talk down a pissed-off passenger. He's nice to crazy old people. He smiles and thanks everyone when they get off the bus. When he asks you how your day is going, it seems like he's actually interested. Sometimes he's very chatty with me, which is nice, except it means that I get stuck standing at the front of the bus talking to him while he goes on and on about his kids. Still, he's friendly and he has one hell of a hard job, and we all need a little civility on this planet, I think, so what's the harm in standing for 15 minutes, right?

So today he starts telling me about his best friend who happens to be a woman, and how she did something years ago that really pissed him off, but he never told her what it was. He walked around carrying this anger at her and resenting her for it, and the whole time she was totally unaware that he was even upset about this. I have no idea why he decided to unload all this on me--we only have a superficial "how's your day going?" kind of relationship. But he obviously needed to tell someone, so I listened while he went on about how she was so surprised that he'd been angry with her and she asked him why he never said anything, and then he realized if only he'd communicated this to her, he could have stopped walking around with all this anger. Which is great--good for him. He and his friend are now back on track and he's asked her to forgive him for not trusting her enough to let her know he was upset with her. But still...kind of a weird thing to tell a passenger, right?

Ok, though. He's probably bored. All he does is drive around all day and talk to strangers and many of them probably act like he doesn't exist, even though they put their lives in his hands once a day. Again, no skin off my back if he wants to unload a bit on me.

Then he starts telling me about his kids and how he and his wife home-school them. That's cool. Not my bag, but then again, I don't have a partner at home who could give me this option for my son. Still, it's all interesting--he's really into it. He tells me all about the bible stories he and his kids read together and how it's great because the kids learn to read, but they also learn a "moral lesson" based on "factual events" that they can draw on when they run into problems in life.

Um, ok. Again...so NOT my bag, but he's a nice guy. Obviously he loves his kids and is proud of them, and who am I to judge?

So I make the mistake of telling him I'm not religious. Because I'm a moron.

Then I have to listen to him explain how it's not about religion. It's about spirituality and values and God's love. Again, hey man, that's cool for you. Good on ya and all that jazz. I so don't want to be discussing this on a bus, but whatever. He seems really happy to be talking to me. And that's good for him. I'm glad to help, even though I'm becoming a little uncomfortable.

I try and steer him off the spirituality talk and back to the homeschool stuff because I figure that's safer territory and I can more easily feign interest in that. I ask about field trips. He gets excited and tells me about all the cool stuff they do, and I have to say, it does sound fun. They go on nature hikes, fishing, they visit fire stations. So I tell him about how I've heard the recycling depot does field trip tours for schools, and he is psyched about the idea and how it would really stand out in his kids' minds and make them understand how important it is to recycle. And I'm pleased that he's so excited to learn about this. And we're at my stop at the university, where the buses sit for several minutes.

So, I'm at the exit of the bus right next to him, ready to run and get a coffee before I head to class, and he tells me about his friend who owns a cafe and they run a fair-trade coffee co-op. Very cool. I'm into that. And he says he's really into supporting small business, especially those that respect cultures and make an effort like those that sell fair trade coffee. Again, right on. I'm down with that.

Then he says he doesn't like these big businesses like Starbucks. I nod. Lots of people don't like Starbucks. I'll admit to buying a cafe mocha there here and there, but generally, I do make an effort to buy coffee from independent places that sell fair trade brands, so I have no issues with what he's saying. It's all good. Nice guy, smiley friendly bus driver. Loves his kids and supports small businesses. Good for him. And he says, "I don't like the kind of lifestyle Starbucks promotes."

And I think, "Yeah, a lot of people feel that way. Big business, squeezing out the moms and pops, popping up on every corner of our ever-growing consumeristic more more now now bigger better culture. It's not a great lifestyle to promote, I guess. I should be more aware of this stuff. I should be more determined to think about what I consume." So I keep nodding and smiling. I'm thinking about running to the independent coffee place on campus right now actually, but he's talking into the short time I have between departing the bus stop and class.

Again he says, "I don't like the lifestyle Starbucks promotes," and I nod and smile and step towards the door again, hoping he'll take a breath for a second so I can say, "nice talking to you, I've got to run!" but he keeps going. "I might be overstepping my bounds," he says, so happy to have a kindred spirit in me, "but gay marriage is wrong. A child needs a mother and a father--a boy without a dad will not grow up to be masculine. A girl without a mom will not be feminine. That's a fact. That's the kind of lifestyle Starbucks promotes."

I'm stunned. I stand there, literally speechless. What is it about my face that makes someone think that I might possibly agree with that? Why on earth would he say something like that to someone he barely knows? What do I say?


Nothing. I said nothing. I was so tired. I had to get to class. I didn't know what to say. I thought about the fact that I'm a single mom whose son doesn't have a man and a woman raising him together. I thought about the fact that I have more gay friends than straight, and they deal with shit like this all the time. I got off the bus and felt sad and defeated. I waved to my former favourite bus driver, who smiled happily at me and shouted, "It was great talking to you, Katie!"

I bought a coffee from the independent coffee seller on campus and told the cute coffee guy about it, and we shook our heads and rolled our eyes at each other.... then I wandered across campus to my queer film studies class feeling totally disturbed and angry at myself for not speaking up.

Saturday, March 18, 2006

It's safe to hit the "Next Blog" button if you:

• Are hoping to buy a motorized wheel chair
• Really into purchasing large amounts of fertilizer
• Are intensely interested in hearing why Mary-Jo and all of her neighbours in their trailer park in Wichita think that abortion is murder.
• Are into Spanish cartoon porn.
• Really want to increase your website traffic and don’t mind having your blog covered with crap from advertisers.
• Love America. I mean, REALLY, REALLY love it. Like you love it so much you want to marry it.
• Know what “Diem dam chinh thuc lop Tin 04b1” means.
• Want to improve your spanking techniques.
• Don’t mind that your computer will freeze for half an hour when you stumble upon a 13 year old Japanese girl’s tribute to Hello Kitty!

Friday, March 17, 2006

Geek Girl Breaks Down


Hi, my name is Katie, and I'm an internet geek.

I've been posting on various chat boards for over 7 years. I'm addicted to Alias and Veronica Mars and can spend hours online snarking about the hilarity that is America's Next Top Model (who here thinks Jade's makeover served her right?).

I used to have a myspace page and actually own cds by bands who asked me to put them on my "friends list."

I once pitched in with a bunch of people at TWoP to send a plane and banner over the Big Brother 2 House in order to drive houseguest/professional cook Nicole even more insane than she already was.

I collect Pez dispensers.

When internet neophytes send me annoying chain e-mail that suggests something tragic might happen to me if I don't pass it along to 5 of my closest friends, or when they send me stuff about kidnapped children from Wisconsin, I immediately send them a nasty note containing a link to About.com's Urban Legends page. It never stops them, by the way.

But last night, I broke down, and purchased the ULTIMATE in Net Geek Chic--I bought the unofficial Snakes on a Plane t-shirt!

I love that there are already unofficial t-shirts for a movie that isn't out yet. I love that a movie with a premise this stupid is actually being made. I love that it's being made by people who seem gleeful about their involvement in this movie precisely because the premise IS so stupid. I love that it stars Samuel-there ain't a damn thing you can do about it-Jackson. I love the stories behind this movie.

I love my t-shirt.

Saturday, March 11, 2006

There's no elegant way to end a hiatus

Unless of course your life is written by the same people behind Arrested Development or something, because damn, those guys came back from a hiatus every few weeks with such panache! It's intimidating.

Alas, you fine folks have me, and I have not felt like writing at all lately. I'm finishing the last two months of the degree that I started way back in 2000 or 2001--it's been so long I can't remember when I began. I am so not into school at all anymore. I've stopped caring about grades, I've stopped participating in discussions, and I've even stopped checking out my male classmates, because yes, there's no getting around it--they're all way too young for me. I've sworn off men who don't know what Schoolhouse Rock or ABC Afterschool Specials were. That rule includes men my age--if you don't know what those things are, you were probably raised on a commune or in some weird religious community, and we'd be doomed anyway. I need a man who knows the words to "Conjunction Junction." A girl has to have some standards, right?

You know what sucks about getting writer's block? You think people might miss your blog, but what happens is that all of the people who regularly check it get sick of waiting between posts for weeks and they stop checking. And who can blame them, really? But it's going to take me a while to get back in the swing of things again....so come by! Check! Send me notes like Anna did, and yell at me to get my shit together and write something. I need the pressure. Without you, I'm nothing. Ok, that's not entirely true....without you, my BLOG is nothing. You are the wind beneath my wings, guys.

I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.