is it just me?

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

 

riding the bus with my sister

perhaps you have seen an advertisement for this upcoming made for tv movie with Rosie O'Donnell. In it she plays a developmentally disabled woman who (I'm guessing here) rides the bus with her sister, played by Andie McDowell. Unfortunately for Rosie she dresses like a 7 year old and has bad hair in the movie. Now, I will say that things weren't going all that well for her career recently, and given that when I first saw a picture of filming for the movie I didn't realize that she was in costume I am not sure this will save the sinking ship that is Rosie's career.

But this is not a post about Rosie O'Donnell. This is a post about the bus. I ride the bus to work. For the first two years I lived here I didn't have a car and I rode the bus everywhere. After extensive social observation, I came to the conclusion that most of the people that ride the bus are weird. Commuter buses are not so bad, but if you ride the bus in the middle of the day or, even worse, at night: look out. Loonies everywhere. Probably the weirdest was this one woman who was loudly talking political and religious nonsense while desperately trying to manage the seventeen suitcases and parcels she had with her. A guy gets on a few stops later. While everyone else on the bus has been studiously burying their nose into anything they can to avoid having to talk to the ranter, this guy starts listening. And then he starts talking to her. He thinks she makes perfect sense. He thinks she's right on the money. Together they will save the world. Next thing I know we're at her stop, and he offers to get off and help her with her bags. Half hour til the next bus be damned. This was bus love.

At my stop in the morning there is a rotating cast of characters. One guy is very odd. He won't talk. He'll stare at you until you look at him and say good morning and then he'll quickly look away. He's a grad student (or a student of some sort) and he has a kind of weird wife. How he got a wife is a mystery since he won't talk. But anyway, I think he has a condition. It is spring here in Wisconsin, but after a few glorious days in the seventies we've calmed down to our standard 50 degree April days. However, this is relatively temperate. After a winter of freezing temps, your standards shift. All of a sudden 40, which it was this morning, is not so bad. This guy was wearing a turtleneck, a turtleneck sweater, a fleece jacket, a jean jacket, a parka, two pairs of gloves and a hat. This is not Mount Everest, people. Now, I get cold. But that is ridiculous. So just as I am trying to think what sort of medical condition might cause this behavior (hey, I forgot my magazine at home and had 15 minutes to kill on the bus) I notice this other guy sitting to my right behaving oddly. Then I recognize him - I saw him at a squash match this weekend (we were spectators). He kept asking what game it was. About every two seconds. The ref would say "so and so serving, 6-4." He'd say "6-4". Then he'd look at us and ask the score. Then "what game is it". I finally decided maybe he was drunk. But no. He was sitting there this morning casting weird looks around and talking to himself. And where else would I expect this guy to show up except the bus. It's just so fitting.

So why is everyone on the bus weird? My co-worker suggests that weird people can't keep jobs so they have no money so they have no cars so they ride the bus. I also think weird people like having a captive audience. Once I spent an entire ride to work listening to a woman tell me all about everything she was wearing, where she bought it and how much it cost. Another lady that I see regularly (whom I affectionately refer to as Crazy Bus Lady but who really isn't half as crazy as a lot of em) talks to me incessantly about her dog. And my dog, since once she found out I had one that was something we had in common. Sometimes she would tell me a story in the morning about how her dog ate breakfast, and in the afternoon she would have cornered some other poor sap and would be telling the same story. Sad, really. Now she got laid off and I don't see her anymore. I have to admit, I miss her sometimes.

Today my bus driver stopped about 20 feet short of where all passengers were waiting. I stand in the same spot everyday, and I get picked up there every day. But not this guy. He's trying to teach us a lesson. And that lesson is - I own you, bus people.

Well, this post isn't really going where I want it to. I feel like the bus is interesting but maybe not. But one day if you're bored in the middle of the day, ride the bus. Destinations almost guaranteed for entertainment are hospitals and shopping malls. You'll find out some things about the people in your neighborhood. And you'll quickly realize why people love their cars.

 

urgent and confidential

Dear Sir,
I am Mr Tony Adams and I represent Mr. Mikhail Khordokovsky the former C.E.O of Yukos Oil Company in Russia. I have a very sensitive and confidential brief from this top (oligarch) to ask for your partnership in re-profiling funds over US$50 million to your account. I will give you the details, but in summary, the funds are coming via a prime Bank in United.Kingdom. Please Note that this is a legitimate transaction. You will be paid 4% for your "management fees".

Funny, it doesn't sound that legitimate. Trying to move $50 million through someone you've never met? I can't imagine why anyone would think that's bogus. Who are these people? Why won't they stop emailing me? What do they want from me? I mean seriously, are there still people falling for this nonsense? Honestly. What is a top (oligarch)? It's as though he was trying to think of a better word, but forgot and sent it out anyway. I don't know if I'd rather get them from this guy or the widows of african dictators. "So, my husband committed untold atrocities and stole everyone's money before he was killed, and now I want to send it to you." Right. Because everyone who wants to launder money sends it to the United States. Don't worry - I know there's not any money. I just wish they'd leave me alone.

Friday, April 22, 2005

 

how's everybody doin?

occasionally I go to the campus gym to work out. I go there because it's cheaper than a real gym. the upside is I save money and I don't have to feel bad about not going that much since it isn't too expensive. the downside is I have to work out with a bunch of 19 year olds. this is very very bad for my self esteem. you see, I am not a college student. I am not even a grad student. I am staff. which means (to all those gals in my class) I am OLD.

the teachers are mostly perky 20 years olds with very little to recommend them except they are still young enough to be able to do more than one aerobics class per day. they start every class with "so, how's everybody doin?" in my experience, almost no one ever answers this question. this does not deter them. (I think it must be in the manual. step one: ask them how they are doing. step two: make them march in place to bad music. step three: confuse the hell out of them with complicated routines and secretly laugh.) they will ask that question several times throughout the class, inevitably when you're wanting to die rather than contort your body one more time, and wishing that you had invited your friends to go eat burgers on your lunch hour instead of this nonsense. now, the anticipated response is "woooooo". you're not actually supposed to answer with a feeling, like "old" or "fat" or "good" or whatever. you're just supposed to woo. I refuse. I will only woo at sporting events. (another sign that I was born the wrong gender which I will discuss in a different post.) so they keep asking you, and it gets old. just once I want to call out in my perkiest voice (which truthfully isn't very perky at all due to a lack of practice) "crappy, you?"

usually my bosu instructor who we'll call Mary (because that's her name) does a little monologue at the start of the class. after asking us how we're doing (woo) she says, "so - does anybody know how many days until the end of the semester?" This puts me in a bit of a bad temper because it reminds me that a) I am probably the only person in there who doesn't care when the end of the semester is, and b) that I don't get summer vacation anymore. that is one sad part of working around students. although you can feel smug around midterms, when summer rolls around you remember why people stay in grad for ten years. it's all about the vacation. that and having no boss. after we talk about that, Mary says "so - did you guys hear they set the date for Mifflin?" Mifflin is a block party. It involves a LOT of drinking and bad behavior (woo). Usually people get drunk and stand on porches and throw things. Since we have covered my age (relative to college students) it will come as no great surprise to hear that I don't go to this block party, though I walked by it one year and thought it looked lame. I don't go places where I think there is a good chance I will get something thrown at me. call me crazy.
at this point I realize that these classes are not meant for me. but I have committed.

there are a few bad things about working out with 19 year olds. 1) almost all of them are in better shape than you are. this won't always be true. I can pick out the ones that are going to have huge asses by the time they hit 25, but for the moment both time and gravity are on their sides. the one thing that tempers this is that this is wisconsin and there are a lot of bigger people here. but still, over all, they look pretty good. 2) they look cute even when they work out. when you're young, you care what you look like all the time. you are willing to actually shop for and try on exercise outfits. I try to keep up with the times, but as soon as I am feeling okay about how I look for class I catch a glimpse in the mirror and realize NOPE I look like a huge dork. Just when I was thinking maybe I could blend in with the crowd, I see my gleaming white cross trainers and winter olympics t-shirt mocking me from the mirror. and thus continues the cycle of self loathing.

I keep going back because I really do want to be in shape. that, and once I return to my office, where I am thankfully surrounded by shlumpy academics who for sure have me on intelligence but whose asses I can totally kick in the fitness and style categories, I can sit there and feel superior while I eat the takeout burger I got on the walk back from the gym. woo.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

 

job h8r

The title of this does not actually refer to my personal opinion about my job. While my job is a little boring, overall it is a good job and I like it. And I don't want to get fired.

I was driving down the street the other day and I see a fancy (we'll say jaguar/lexus caliber, though I am fuzzy on the details) car with the license plate JOB H8R. So, first I figure that this person either a) does not have a job and wants you to know that he does not have to work to afford his high end pimp mobile, or b) sold out to the man but takes the bus to work. As I pull up next to the car, I see that the driver (I cannot verify whether or not he's the owner) is 30 years old, tops. I mean...what kind of asshole is that guy? And the sorriest part of it is that his friend who is sitting in the passenger seat catches me looking to see who h8s their job enough to put it on their license plate, and gives me a look like "oh yeah - you know you want it". which of course I do not. And you wish somehow you could convey to him and his friend that you think they are super lame but of course you can't without seeming even more lame yourself. in a desperate attempt to save myself I surreptitiously flash my wedding band and turn up the radio hoping that the song that's playing is worthy of playing loudly.

so I wonder what the story is. But the arrogance is truly shocking. They are so cocky, in fact, that both the driver and his friend think they can pull of those wide leather cuff bracelets. When did straight men start thinking they could pull that off outside of New York? Madison is basically a fashion free zone, save for a few college girls from the east coast, and it is really tough to make stuff like leather cuffs fly. Especially if both you and your friend are wearing them at the same time. Who knows - maybe they say "Best Friends Forever" on them. ha.

Overall I am opposed to vanity plates, but since we're on the subject (sort of) I have a few honorable mention awards. The other day I saw one that said h82w84u which has to be the most words (five) that you can cram in to eight letters. Though after spotting this it occurred to me that this whole "text messaging" (and I put it in quotes only because I am mad that I don't know how to do it and wouldn't have anyone to message if I did) craze could really increase the caliber of vanity plates. Now that an entire generation of teenagers can reduce almost any word to two letters the possibilities are endless. The other awards go to an Audi with the plate Inny and a Ford Explorer with the license plate Dora. At least some people still have a sense of humor.

email me

Friday, April 15, 2005

 

spitonya

so, the question for the day is: is it ever appropriate to spit on another person?

a couple of weeks ago, I was suffering through a bad Turkish movie at the local film festival in a weak attempt to prove that I am cultured. at some point during the basically plotless and decidedly uncompelling movie, we started to hear some murmuring from the back of the theatre. as it starts to escalate, we hear someone saying "don't fucking touch me". what? this is much more interesting than the movie. before too long, two guys are standing up, one of them offering to "take this outside" and the other one telling him to "sit the fuck down". again, what? we're at a film festival. in the midwest. it should be filled with mild-mannered nerds. lovers, not fighters. so finally, the guy who started yelling first (and was upset about being touched) gets up, spits on the people next to him, and leaves. Now, you could hear him spit. But just in case you weren't sure, the lady next to him says "he spit on me!" and the guy next to her says "he spit on me too!" unbelievable.

I think the reason this seemed particularly outrageous was that it was so hopelessly out of context. I would argue that spitting indoors is rarely appropriate, and spitting on other people almost never is. But certainly not when you are in a Turkish art movie, and copious amounts of alcohol are not involved. I forgot to mention that before we heard the murmuring we heard really really loud snoring. Our best guess is that someone tried to wake up the snorer, and he was probably drunk which caused the snoring, so he woke up mad. But spit on people? Honestly. So, if you can think of a situation in which spitting on someone is appropriate, let me know.
What made me think of this today is I was standing waiting in line for a sandwich, and a college age woman who was unlocking her bike outside the restaurant spit on the ground. I found this surprising. So, I would also like to know if you think it is acceptable for men or women or both to spit in the middle of the sidewalk. I guess if you really must, go ahead, but if you're a girl you might want to be a touch discreet about it.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

 

try something new

whenever I was a kid and I told my mom I was bored she would say "why don't you call your friends? why don't you read a book? why don't you go outside? " and of course the answer was that I didn't WANT to do any of those things. but now I am older and I am bored and I would gladly do any of those things but I can't because I am "working". so I thought I would try this.

If you can't skin em, shoot em.

I live in Wisconsin. In this fine state, we are currently debating a potential law legalizing cat hunting. yep. cats. not housecats, feral cats. Apparently there are a lot of them in the countryside and they kill lots of birds and are generally a menace and people want to be allowed to shoot em. I find it interesting that people who would be interested in shooting cats actually care whether or not it is legal.

This has been in the news for many days. And since now we have 24 hour news channels and endless news websites all looking for something to talk about, people will find out about this. Now, since I moved here I have discovered that Wisconsin is the random state of choice. In movies, TV, etc whenever they want to use an out there state they use Wisconsin. So this whole cat hunting this is probably not going to help our reputation. My uncle recently sent me a police blotter from the Turks & Caicos which told about a man from Wisconsin who had been arrested for having sex with someone else's cows. Outstanding. This is what people in other countries know about Wisconsin. Perhaps it's time to move.

Spamming is bad

I just received a very strange email offering the ability to make free phone calls from some office in Malaysia. Given the previous paragraph, you will know that this is not a particularly useful service for me. However, at the end of the message it said (and I quote)

Spamming is Bad
If we have accidentally send to wrong person or you do not wish to receive any of our emails, please reply with the subject "REMOVE"

Obviously they have send to wrong person. But they are right. Spamming is bad.

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