What the hell are parents doing to their kids?

Boy slits girl's throat in high school lobby.

and

Boy, 8, kills father, roommate with 22 rifle.

Some people should not own dogs

So today I'm walking my little dog over by CU, when I hear a bark and then a man yell from across the street, "Rover, no!"

I look and there's a large ugly dog running right for me and Zilla. I pick up my little 12-pound monster, and stand still while the big dog approaches.

It didn't look mean, but it also wasn't wagging its tail, and it didn't look relaxed, so I decided it was best to just stand still. It approached, and then fixed its gaze on Zilla. I held her out of reach.

As the owner was crossing the street, I saw he was middle-aged, in a nice dress shirt and slacks, blondish red hair, glasses. Clearly employed here at CU.

"Hi." I said.

He said nothing.

Me: "This is why there are leash laws, so you dog doesn't get run over."

Him: "That's why I called her."

Me: "Yeah, but that didn't work very well, did it? If a bus had been coming, she would have been hit for sure."

Him, annoyed: "Just go away."

Me: "It's people like you who give dog owners a bad name."

Him: "You're a bitch!"

Me: "You're an asshole."

Him: "This is private property. You aren't even supposed to be here."

Me: "So you think you don't have to follow Boulder laws then?"

He muttered something else, but by then, fortunately, I was too far away to hear him.

I hate you people.

Anchorwoman found severely beaten in her apartment

What the fuck?

Dead animals found in pot, freezer in Vt. home

This supports my view that rural Vermont isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Caledonia County Sheriff' said: "They said they didn't know why their animals were dying. They were very angry we were taking the animals away from them, and they didn't offer any information. They simply said 'We're taking care of them, but they're dying, there's nothing we can do.' The response they gave was very strange," O'Hare said.

Psycho decapitates passenger on Greyhound

Some crazy loon went berserk on a Greyhound bus, stabbing his seatmate to death while he slept, and then cutting off his head and showing it to passengers outside, who had fled the bus in horror when the screaming began.

Greyhound had this to say of the event: "Spokeswoman Abby Wambaugh said there had been 37 passengers aboard, many watching a movie when the violence erupted. She called the attack tragic but isolated."


Isolated? She felt the need to clarify that it's a one-time thing?


"Yeah, no one has hacked off a fellow passenger's head in months. We don't expect another decapitation until at least February."

Angry man shoots lawn mower with shotgun

Keith Walendowski, 56, shot his lawnmower with a shotgun after he couldn't get it to start.

He told police, "I can do that, it's my lawn mower and my yard so I can shoot it if I want."

Neighbors say he was drunk.

I'll wager he's a McCain supporter.

6th human foot found off BC coast

What the ... ?

Just one little wish

To the driver in the burgundy Chevy Silverado, Colorado license plate number 384 HGJ, who decided to play chicken with the bus on Interstate I-270:

May you catch some horrible venereal disease that causes your penis to turn black and fall off.



That is all.

Loogie launcher

A cyclist spit on me today.

I was driving the bus, and he was in the bike lane, and when I went by, I gave him a wide berth. I ride a bike, so I know what it's like to sucked in by a passing vehicle.

I pulled into a stop right after I passed him, and as I was going to pull out--blinker on--I saw he was there and waited for him to go by.

As he did, he spit at my open window.

I couldn't believe it! I'm always so considerate to cyclists on the road. Why would he do that?

I hate you people.

This about sums it up

Click here.


Ok, I lied. Click here.

It's too early for giant butt crack

This girl's sweat pants were halfway down her butt. No, really, at least half her ass was sticking out for all the world to look at.

Gross.

We don't need no stinking parking spaces!

This car has been abandoned at the Boulder Humane Society. I waited about 6 minutes to see if a driver would return to the car. None did. Perhaps they had a pet emergency, you say? There were several spaces available right in front of the clinic, including a giant handicapped space, that would have brought them closer to the front door. Instead, they chose to just stop their car in the road--no flashers--and leave it there for others to maneuver around it.

Assholes.

Asshole Parker's Club

Think he knows he's taking up more than half the lane by parking illegally?

No one would help

While on a break on my route, I headed over to the Conoco on Baseline and Mohawk for a cup of coffee. About 20 feet from the door, I saw this poor chick laying on the ground. I thought it was dead until I noticed it was breathing.

I went into the Conoco and told the attendant there that there was a chick lying on the ground that had fallen from a nest in the roof gutter and that if he had a ladder, he could put the chick back in the nest and hope that its parents don't kick it out again.

He said, "I don't know what to do."

That's code for, "I don't want to get involved, and am too busy with my own petty, boring life to do anything to help an innocent creature. I have gas to sell. Move along."

I said, "I just told you what you could do to help."

He shrugged his shoulders.

People SUCK.

I hate you all.

Some stupid bitch hit my car ...

If your car made contact with another car, wouldn't you immediately hit the brake? Or would you continue driving, slowing turning the wheel while your car made horrible grinding noises as metal pushed metal? Well that's what she did, first hitting my door, then my rear tire and then finishing up with some damage to my left rear bumper.

When she got out of the car and came to my window, the first thing she said was, "I'm sorry." She was a middle-aged housewife with polyester pants, a big butt and a old dye job with two inches of roots. She looked like she was wacked out on pain meds or something. When I asked her why she didn't stop, she said, "I didn't have time." I guess the sound of crunching metal for a full 30 seconds wasn't enough of an indicator that perhaps she should stop her car.

I just got back from the Geico estimator, and it's going to cost almost $3,000 to fix it. Thank GOD her insurance is going to cover it. But I will be in a rental car for an entire week while they fix it.

I hope they have bike racks.

Pregnant women are such snotty bitches

I board two people at a stop and am about to close the door when a guy runs up to my front door with his arms full of movies and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

He almost boards with the ciggie, so I shut the door until he put it out.

I reopened the door, and he steps on, searching his pockets and looking out the door toward the back of the bus. Not a good sign.

Him: There's someone else coming.

Me: I'm not allowed to hold the bus. Do you have a pass for me?

He's still fumbling through his pockets and leaning out the door to look toward the back of the bus.

I'm in the middle of the freakin' road, blocking traffic.

Me: I need to get going, sir.

At this moment, his pregnant girlfriend steps on the bus and says in a snotty tone: It's kind of hard to run when you're pregnant.

Yeah, and whose fault is that? Did someone hold a gun to your head and MAKE you get pregnant? I don't think so. You chose that.

So shut the fuck up.

Next time, why don't you try getting your ass to the stop on time, and then you won't force yourself to run while you're pregnant? How 'bout that, eh?

They're everywhere

His rear right tire is three feet from the curb. As a result, his car is sticking into the lane on a curve. I can't believe no one has hit him yet. And that's not a fluke. He parks like that every week.


They didn't even attempt to get into the space. The guy in the monster truck next to him didn't do much better.


She saw me take her picture, and when I walked by she asked what I was doing.

Me: "I have a blog for people who can't park."

Her: "I only parked that way because the guy next to me parked crooked."

Me: "Uh hu. So you just thought you'd make a bad situation worse by messing up two spaces?"

*blank stare*

*drives away*


This guy has no excuse. There was no one parked on either side of him when he pulled in. I guess he felt that since he has a tiny penis and a big red truck that he'd just take two spaces.

I couldn't agree more

A sign across from Nederland High School.

Mom, kids live with corpse for 2 months

Mom is a religious zealot who believed that if she prayed hard enough, the corpse would come back to life.

Announcing a new holiday

Tomorrow is Speak Your Mind Day.

You can say anything you want to anyone, and there will be absolutely no consequences whatsoever.

Passenger: "Where does this bus go?"

Me: "Straight to hell."

Crackhead passenger: "I only have 35 cents. Is that enough?"

Me: "NO! Why should you ride free when everyone else had to pay? Get a job!"

The woman in front of me in line at King Soopers with two screaming children covered in snot and grime starts writing a check for her $23 in groceries.

Me: "Are you kidding me? You're writing A CHECK? It's 2008! Instead of making us all stand here listening to your whiny children, why don't you use your debit card like everyone else?"

And, when someone swings their car door open in front of my bus, I don't hit the brakes or swerve: I just take it clean off at the hinge and keep going.




Embrace the new holiday.

Dear God: Please strike this man dead. Thanks.

Father confesses to holding daughter captive in basement for 24 years, fathering 7 children with her.


His wife claims she didn't know what was going on. If she didn't, she's too stupid to be allowed to live.

Surgeons are GOD, don't ya know

Dr. Richard J. Fox, M.D., F.A.C.S., of Alpine Surgical, made me wait 30 minutes ...

... here, in this tiny room. No one came in to tell me why he was late, or what the holdup was. I was sort of forced to wait in there, because there was a woman with a runaway wheelchair in the waiting room who kept boxing me into corners. There were no magazines, and the blinds were down. I opened them, and watched it snow for a while. I took pictures of everything in the room. I checked my watch: 30 minutes. I think 30 minutes is a reasonable amount of time to wait for someone, don't you? After all, my time is important, too.

When I approached the receptionist to ask for a refund of my co-pay, I asked her why the doctor was so late. She said, with a completely straight face, "He's a surgeon."

Oh, well, if he's a surgeon, I understand completely. He doesn't have to be accountable--he's a surgeon!

Can I use that excuse, too?

Annoyed passenger: "Excuse me ma'am, why are you 15 minutes late arriving at Market Street Station?"

Me: "Because I'm a surgeon!"

Yeah. I'll try that.

White trash leaves white (and yellow) trash

This is a bag full of cigarette butts. About 300 of them. I picked them up from the first floor/courtyard of my apartment building.

Smokers are disgusting pigs.

Nice stereo. Thanks!

Someone broke into my neighbor's car last night and stole his stereo.

I discovered it while I was dragging my stuff out to my storage unit. My car was parked 50 feet away. I have an alarm on mine, but he may have had one, too.

See the giant gaping hole in the middle of his car where the stereo used to be?

People suck.

Another Saturday night on the job

People who sit in the front seat by the driver:

Those with tuberculosis, pneumonia, the Asian flu and other ailments of the lung which cause them to cough up bile loudly and continuously into the back of the driver's head for the duration of their journey

Gum poppers and smackers

People who make loud bodily noises

Homeless people who haven't bathed or washed their clothes
since the Clinton Administration

People who wear Patchouli

Drunk people

Crazy people

Drunk, crazy people

People who talk loudly on their cell phones (I'm on the bus!!)



People who sit in the back:

Teenagers


Teenagers who eat snacks and leave their wrappers all over the floor for the driver to pick up because they were clearly raised by wolves


Teenagers who want to write their gang signs on the back of the seats

Teenagers who want to tell loud made-up stories about their escapades interspersed with curse words so that they sound really, really cool

Teenagers who can't finish a complete sentence
without using the word "like" 300 times

Teenagers who want to make out

Teenagers with skateboards

Men who want to hit on women

People who want to sell/buy drugs

People who want to smoke pot

People who want to make out

People who want to sleep



Stupid questions of the night:

Drunk guy with his fly wide open: I forgot to ask for a transfer
from the other bus. Can you give me one?

How much is it to just go two blocks?

Do you make change?

Is it fun, driving the bus?

If it sounds too good to be true ...

When you receive an email telling you that Bill Gates is going to send you money for every person you forward an email to, isn't there some small part of you that says, "Hmm, that sounds complete bullshit"?

I can answer that: No. No, you don't. None of you do. Because if you did, I wouldn't find these completely ridiculous emails in my Inbox each and every day.

Please discover Snopes.com. Please. I'm begging you.

And tell your friends.

Thanks. Thanks so much.

Alert: OTHER PEOPLE EXIST

You know how you're driving down the road at night, and someone's got their high beams on? So you flash your lights at them, as if to say, "Hey, um, you've got your high beams on and they're kind of blinding me. Would you mind turning them off?"

And then, naturally, after a few seconds, they would lower their high beams.


Yeah. That doesn't happen anymore.


Now when you flash your high beams, the offender does nothing. Nothing. So you flash them again. Still nothing. So you turn them on high and leave them there. Still NOTHING.

Are people really this unaware that other people are affected by their behavior? Or do they just not give a shit?

And while we're on the subject of inconsiderate assholes, why does NO ONE know how to merge? They are attempting to get on a freeway where they know people will be driving 65 mph, and yet, they're only doing 45. There is no blinker on. They aren't speeding up or slowing down so that they can maneuver their car into an available space. Instead, they are talking on their cell phones. They are applying makeup. They are reading (no, really, I've actually seen people reading as they drive down the freeway). When the lane finally runs out and time comes to merge, they finally look in their mirror. And then: Panic.


They slam on their brakes. They cut people off.

They are idiots.

I wish I could tow it away myself

As I left The Village this morning after a lovely breakfast,
I noticed this little car sticking out in the road. It's got snow on it,
so it's been here for a while, probably overnight.

See it sticking out in the road?

I mean, they are five feet from the front of the parking space.
Perhaps they were pulled over for DUI, arrested,
and plan to retrieve their car when they get out of jail?

Or, they're just inconsiderate assholes who think they're the center of the universe.

I can't decide.

Another Saturday night on the bus

I am walking back to my bus from a very short potty break when I see a large black man pounding on the doors of my bus. It's parked in front of the homeless shelter. It's locked, and there's no one on it, but he's pounding on the doors with both fists anyway. He's wearing a blue knitted cap, an old dirty sweatshirt, and jeans over long underwear, both of which are falling down. There is a large outdoor-size trash bag next to him, full of god knows what. He doesn't know I'm standing less than 15 feet from him.

He gives up the pounding. I wait to see what he'll do next. He steps away from the doors, and begins to sway.

Great, he's drunk. Perfect.

His head drops to his chin, and he begins swinging back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

Finally I say, "Are you ok sir?"

He turns around slowly, but a bit startled. "I'm just tired. I'm so tired. I've got neuropathy. You know what that is? It's nerve damage. I got never damage. I ain't drunk. I got nerve damage. I got neuropathy. It makes me tired. I weeble, and I wobble, but I don't fall down."

Me, with a little smile: "Are you trying to be funny?"

Him: "I'm trying to teach you how to smile."

Me: "I already know how to smile. I just don't have much occasion to use it."

I open the door and step in.

Me, pointing at his giant trash bag: "Is there anything in there I need to worry about?"

Liquor? Drugs? Body parts?

Him: "Nah, there ain't nothing to worry about."

He grabs the bag, and struggles to lift it to the first step. He sets it down with a THWUMP and a large sigh.

There are three steps. This is going to take a while.

After about 2 minutes, he manages to get the bag onto the top step and then pulls it five feet or so to the first row of seats.

Me: "Do you have the fare, sir?"

Him: "Yeah, I got a disability."

Me: "Do you have your card?"

Him: "Yeah, I got it here somewhere."

He roots around in his pockets. Old receipts fall to the floor. Pennies come tumbling out. Wait! He has something in his fingers!

Nevermind. It's lint.

Him: "I'll find it. You go ahead."

This is a common ploy to get a free ride. They figure they'll stall you on the fare, and once you get going you'll forget all about them and before they know it, they'll be at their destination.

Nice try.

Me: "No, that's ok. I'll just wait here."

More lint falls to the floor. He wobbles from side to side.

Him: "I'm so tired."

Me: "Sir, I need to get going."

Him, all defensive: "I'm slow. I got a disability. I got it here. How much is it?"

Me: "It's 85 cents."

He pulls his grubby fingers from his pockets and VOILA! There is a coin there. He drops it in the fare box.

Four minutes have come and gone.

Him: "How much is that?"

Me: "A quarter."

Painfully slowly, he puts three more coins in the farebox.

Him: "How much is that?"

Me: "37 cents."

He finds a few more coins and drops them in one at a time.

Him: "How much is that?"

Me: "67 cents."

And it continues on like this for another 2 minutes. I am now nearly 6 minutes late leaving the start terminal.

He finally gets all his fare in the farebox, and sits down. Off I go.

He continues talking the whole way. I can't understand much of what he's saying because he's slurring a little, and mumbling, and the bus is loud when it's going down the road, so I ignore him.

He begins to eat his lunch. Eating and drinking is not allowed on the city buses, but I let it slide. He seems to be having a rough day.

As I come to a stop, I hear a THUD from behind me, and when I turn to look, he's dropped his giant soda cup all over the floor. I put on the emergency brake, put it in neutral, put on the flashers, take off my seatbelt, and get out of the seat. There is liquid EVERYWHERE. Guess who has to clean it up?

As I'm cleaning up his mess so that another passenger doesn't slip and kill himself in it, I tell him he's got to put his drink in the trash.

Him: "I'll just put it in my bag."

Now, it's one of those kinds of sodas you get at Conoco, the kind with a lid and a straw, and there's no way that thing's NOT going to spill over in his bag. But I let him do it anyway.

I put the dirty paper towels in the trash, got back in the seat, put on my seatbelt, took off the emergency brake, turned off the flashes, and put it in drive. The whole thing took about 2 minutes.

So basically, I have lost 8 minutes on this guy. This means I will be 8 minutes late at the end of my trip, which means that I will lose 8 minutes of my next break. My break is only 12 minutes long.

I'm not happy.

Worse, as I drive away, he begins to fall asleep.

There's NO WAY this guy is going to sleep on my bus with that giant trash bag blocking half the aisle.

Me: "Sir, which stop do you want?"

Him: "This one."

Well hallelujia.

The Best of Craigslist

Linkity-link

Another day at my dream job

A middle-aged white guy gets on the bus. He steps up to the farebox with his little red coinpurse. He opens it by pulling the little zipper.

Meanwhile, snot is dripping from one nostril in a giant yellow oozing clump. It's a full inch down his face, nearly touching his upper lip.

He jams his giant hand into the little red coinpurse and struggles to reach the change in the bottom.

After 30 seconds or so, he pulls out a nickel. He inspects it. Yup, a nickel. He drops it into the farebox. He forces his giant hand into the little coinpurse again.

We're at 1 minute now, with only a nickel in the farebox.

He jams his giant hand down into the little coinpurse again. His face is contorted with the effort. He reaches a coin, and pulls it out. Another nickel. He inspects it closely. Yup, it's a nickel. He drops it in the farebox. We're at 2 minutes now. The bus is full of people wanting to get home.

The snot on his face remains intact.

On his third attempt, he pulls out a quarter. A passenger in the front seat says, "Thank God, he's reached the quarters."

He drops it on the floor. It takes him 20 seconds to determine it's in plain site in front of his left foot.

I pray for God to kill me.

He picks up the quarter, inspects it, and drops it in the farebox.

The snot hasn't budged.

You know what, I can't even finish this story, it's so disgusting. The short version: after about 4 minutes, he finally put all the fare in the farebox, and I could continue on route. The end.

###

A filthy middle-aged white guy gets on the bus.

"I only have a dollar. I'm just going up to the shelter."

Me: "The fare is $1.75 sir, no matter where you're going."

He looks at me for a minute, like he's expecting me to say something else. I look straight out the windshield.

He takes another dollar out of his pocket and puts it in the farebox.

Why must people lie to me?

###

A filthy, middle-aged white guy gets on the bus.

No, a different one.

He pushes an expired transfer in my face and says: "Do you go to the shelter?"

Me, leaning backward: "Yes I do."

He moves to the middle of the bus and sits down.

One minute later, he comes back to the front of the bus:

"Do you go right to the shelter?"

Me: "Yes, it is the last stop I make."

He takes a few steps back to his seat, turns and comes to the front again: "Does it stop right in front of the shelter?"

I study his face now, trying to determine why he's asking so many times.

Me: "Yes, it stops right in front of the shelter."

Was I unclear the first two times?

###

A woman gets on with 4 kids. Her oldest girl says she forgot her pass at home. She's holding a large milk shake.

Me: "It's 85 cents when you don't have your pass with you."

Her mother shows me her pass for next month. "She's got this one."

"Unfortunately, that's not good until April."

Her mother rolls her eyes. A drunk man sitting in the front offers to pay the girl's fare, and does. She had 85 cents for a milkshake, but wasn't concerned about how she'd get home.

###

A middle-aged white guy with an accent gets on at the shopping center. I made the mistake of saying "hi" as he boarded. He moved from the seat behind me to the seat next to me. The smell of Vodka followed him.

Him: "Dizya hear hamuch snow wur gunget?"

Me: "What?"

Him: "Dizya hear hamuch snow wur gunget?"

Me, again: "What?"

Him: "Nuttin'"

Then, thankfully, silence. But then, a few minutes later:

"Slithpume nextop?"

Me: "What?"

Him: "Slithpume nextop?"

Me: "What? All I heard was Something Something next stop."

He takes a deep breath and with considerable effort says: "Is Sliver Plume the next stop?"

Me: "SILVER Plume? Yeah, I think so."

He mumbled something rude when he wobbled off the bus. It wasn't "thanks for getting my drunk ass home."

Pregnant woman, 29, tortured to death

This story sickens me.

What kind of "family" would do this to another person? To a developmentally disabled, pregnant mother of a 1-year-old boy?

All her clothes had been burned.

She had infected wounds.

They found over 30 BB's embedded in her skin.

She had deep tissue burns over her entire body.

Her 1-year-old son weighed 15 pounds at the time of her death.

Why would you reward someone for breeding?

Can someone please tell me why in God's name the 29th Street Mall in Boulder--or anyone for that matter--would reward people for breeding?

Hey, congratulations!  You had sex!  You brought yet another human being onto this already over-populated planet!  Good job!  As a token of our appreciation, please park in this conveniently located parking space while spending money at our mall!

Those of us who have done our part to protect what's left of our water, food and environment want to know when we're getting the good parking spaces?  Huh?  Can you tell me that?

This country makes no sense.  

If you can't park it, please don't drive it

I was headed to REI before work the other day, 

and when I made the turn into the parking lot, 

I slowed for this truck pulling out.

As I got closer, I realized he wasn't pulling out of the space: 

He was just parked halfway into the road. 

Perhaps there is an impediment in front of his truck, you say?

Um, no. 

He's just another asshole who thinks he's the only person 

alive on this planet.  He was probably a college student, 

as there was a CU Buffs sticker on his rear window.  

I guess he felt that it would have taken 

entirely too long to pull up that last 3 feet. 

I'll bet it's Hotter Than Hell under there

When did Gene Simmons start wearing this hideous toupee?

It's AWFUL! Doesn't he make enough to get some good transplants?

Save New Orleans: Buy a Lincoln

Harry Connick Jr. has made a commercial about how he's trying to bring together the poor in New Orleans who've suffered so terribly after the hurricane.

Is it about a worthy charity? About supporting the Red Cross? About donating your time or money to help those in need?

No.

He's SELLING LINCOLNS.



It's despicable.

I hate my upstairs neighbor, Part 3

My upstairs neighbor is a c*nt.

Yup, that's right. That's what I said. And I meant it, too.

She's pissed off because I reported her boyfriend, Sasquatch, to Management because he had been living up there, a clear violation of the lease--which she signed but apparently never bothered to read.

When she got the letter from management, she went running to her mom, Lawyer Bitch, who then called management in her high-pitched, overly authoritarian voice and asked a bunch of stupid questions, like, "Why is my daughter responsible for other people visiting her apartment?" and "What do you mean, he can't live with her? Why not?" Clearly, Lawyer Bitch didn't bother to read the lease, either.

She's a real genius, all right. Like mother, like daughter.

So now that the little Spoiled Bitch is pissed at me, she makes all kinds of noise. Banging, mostly.

Tonight, it sounded like she was bowling up there.  

Or washing pots and pans in the bathtub.

 

Or giving Flamenco lessons. 

Why can't see be more like my downstairs neighbor? The only noises I hear coming from downstairs are, "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, OH, OH, OH, OH!"

The beginning of the end

Nancy Reagan has taken a fall. A fall that requires hospitalization at the age of 86 is pretty much the beginning of the end. We shall see.

Stay home, people

I'm sorry, but doesn't it seem like this is a given?

I mean, would you attend a rally for supporters of Bhutto's party in light of the violence seen over the past few months?  I sure the hell wouldn't.

Why must people treat others like shit?

My passengers made me cry today.  Like for a good 8 minutes. Fortunately, they were all off the bus at the time.

On my first trip of the day, a passenger said I was "the most uptight driver he'd ever seen" because I asked three 12-year-old boys who were shouting, cursing, and parroting inappropriate rap lyrics to be considerate of my other passengers.  

Several trips later, a woman chewed me out because I didn't know she was disabled.  When she boarded, she said she had to "get her fare" so I waited for her to walk to the middle of the bus, put all her things down, take a seat, and look for her pass.  I waited a full two minutes and when it was clear she had no plans to return to the front of the bus with said pass, I said, "Ma'am?"  She said, "I showed you my pass!"  I said, "I'm sorry, I didn't see it," so she held it up from 8 rows back.  I said, "I'm sorry, I can't see that far." 

She grudgingly got out of her seat and headed toward the front.

"I'm disabled!  You should just trust me!"  

"I'm just doing my job, Ma'am.  I'm supposed to check these things."

"AND I'M DOING MY JOB BY TELLING YOU IT'S FINE!  YOU SHOULD TRUST YOUR PASSENGERS!"

She then showed me her disability card and her folded transfer, which I had to ask her to take out so that I could see when it expired.  That really made her mad.

When she deboarded, she said she'd "read the manual" and knew that I was supposed to "provide customer service" and that I should "trust the customer."  And I guess I was just supposed to know instinctively that she was disabled.

And the topper:  On my last trip of the night, I opened the door and a man said he was "stranded."  I gave him a free ride, and then HE TRIED TO PICK A FIGHT WITH ME.

I have GOT to get another job.

What the hell is wrong with you people?

I hate men!

Do every one of you require a road map to get through life without hurting the people who love you? Do we need to give you a hand-written list on how to behave? On what NOT to say? On what behaviors to stop repeating? And if we did, would you read it? Would you DO IT?

Jesus, your gender is frustrating. 

I have always looked up to and admired men.  You get all the good jobs, the big salaries, get to travel to rugged places, say what you think without apologizing, be admired when you're aggressive.  You know, all the things women don't generally get to do without some luck and a whole lot of effort.

Perhaps I have given you all too much credit and you really are just the dim-witted, unevolved, emotionally-challenged individuals that feminists say you are?

Attention passengers:

• If you were too drunk to remember to break that $20 before leaving the bar so that you could pay $1.75 bus fare, don't expect me to feign sympathy for you and your drunken buddies when you're forced to put it into the farebox so you can get your belligerent drunk ass home.

• When you ask me what's the best way to get somewhere and I tell you, don't then ask me the same question again and again, or tell me how someone else told you that this other way was the best way to get there.  Then go that way.  I don't care what you do.  But stop asking me.

• Please stop trying to scam me by running up the steps as fast you can while displaying your ID for all of 1/64 of a second.  It's only going to make me say, "Excuse me sir, I didn't get a chance to see that," and then you'll have to a) make up a lie about leaving it at home, or  b) fess up to trying to scam me, and c) you'll have to pay the fare.  Do you think that people like to be scammed?  Is it worth it to save that whopping $1.75?

• I'm sure that you just lost your pass yesterday, or that your wallet was stolen, or that you're on your way to pick up your new one, or that your company hasn't issued it yet, or that you don't get paid till Friday, or that you only need to go two blocks--and I'm so very, very sorry about all that, but unfortunately, YOU STILL HAVE TO PAY THE FARE.  

Learn to drive, you MORONS!

I saw six people make illegal u-turns at this intersection.  See those two double yellow lines in the middle?  In the state of Colorado (and most other states, I imagine) it is to be thought of as a curb. In other words, YOU CAN'T FUCKING TURN THERE.  

I am in that intersection for 2 minutes, about 32 times a day.  That's 64 minutes.  I wonder how many illegal u-turns are made during the other 1,376 minutes in the day?

When they make a u-turn there, they STOP dead in traffic, in a lane where people don't expect to stop, because it's not a legal turn. And, if it's a big vehicle, they also swing into the right lane, making cars and buses slam on their brakes to avoid a collision. Where are the Boulder Police?

A Jeep makes an illegal left turn at the same intersection.    



This signal, Ladies and Gentlemen, means DON'T FUCKING TURN RIGHT. Just picture those words on a sign the next time you see this image.  That's not so hard to understand, is it? I see people turn right on the red arrow at Broadway and Regent at least three times a day.

Oh, and someone needs to tell the CU students that shorts are not winter attire. It was 15 degrees and I saw five people wearing shorts and flip flops.

Heath Ledger will be missed

I had this angry post all prepared, but then I opened my Yahoo and saw that Heath Ledger was dead and knew I had to write a short post about him.

I had a dream about him last week.  No, not that kind of dream.  I dreamed that I bumped into him on the sidewalk, and that we had a brief chat--about which I remember nothing--and then we both went on our merry way.  He was incredibly tall in my dream.

I liked the man.  He was a terrific actor who knew how to pick films, and he seemed genuinely like a nice person.  Sometimes intense and brooding, but a warm, kind person.  

He appeared mostly unaffected by "Hollywood."  Yeah, he made gazillions and married an actress and named his daughter Matilda, but for the most part, I thought he seemed like an ordinary guy.  In his photos he sometimes looked troubled or worried, and the roles he took on were dark, deep and REAL, which I guess is why people felt so connected to him.

When I heard the news, I felt a bit the way I did when Princess Di died--truly shocked (unlike my reaction to the deaths of River Phoenix or Brad Renfro) and very, very sad.  

What a great loss it must be to those who were close to him.  And poor Matilda now has to grow up without her daddy.

So sad.  I truly hope it wasn't suicide.  

Some people should never leave the house

Last night I went on a "meetup" with a group of people from my area.  We met at Bar Louie first for some beers and chit chat, and then planned to head over to the Botanic Gardens for the Blossoms of Light and sculpture display.

About 10 people turned out.  It was a diverse group.  

• There were two women who were recent divorcees, 
  
• a tall, reserved low-talker, who spent most of his time talking to the divorcees,
  
• a sheepish but intelligent woman who talked to herself when she thought other people weren't looking, 
  
• a super bright science teacher with a good sense of humor and informed opinions,
  
• a man who talked nervously over you when you tried to make conversation and who would repeat things immediately after other people said them because he felt it made him look knowledgeable,
  
• and a woman in a leotard top (someone needs to tell her the 80s are over) who spent most of her time complaining about the lighting at the restaurant, the lack of specials, the soap on the glasses, and that the appetizers were called "small plates" instead of just "appetizers."  She proceeded to spew her uninformed opinions as though they were fact and then offer personal details about her sex life that none of us really had the stomach for.  And several times, she felt the need to stand in front of the table and do bending and stretching exercises.  
  

She might as well have just worn a t-shirt that read:  LOOK AT ME!! PLEASE!! I DESPERATELY NEED ATTENTION!!

Fortunately, I sat next to one of the divorcees, who was probably one of the most "normal" people in the group.  We had a nice chat.

Unfortunately, on the other side of me was Mr. Repeat-What-Everyone-Else-Says, who, as it turns out, not only talked over you but also had a tendency to spill things.  

Mid-conversation, he reaches for his beer, misses, and half of it goes pouring all over me--all over the table, my shirt, my pants, my chair, the floor.

It looked very much like this, except no one was trying to cop a feel by offering to "help" dry me off, and I wasn't smiling.

I jump from my seat, and grab a napkin that Normal Divorcee handed me.  Mr. Repeat-What-Everyone-Else-Says does nothing. He doesn't even look for a napkin.  He doesn't ask the waitress for a rag.  He doesn't even rise from his seat. He does say, "Sorry 'bout that," and continues to drink his beer while I look around for more napkins to clean up the pint of liquid soaked up by my clothing.

I head to the restroom to clean up, stopping at the bar to get a clean bar rag. No matter how I tried, I couldn't get the beer smell out of my clothes. Worse, my entire crotch area is visibly wet, so now it looks as though I've wet myself.

I head back to the table, annoyed, and see that Mr. Repeat-What-Everyone-Else-Says is still contentedly drinking his beer and repeating other people's sentences and that he hasn't bothered to clean up the beer that is still pooled all over the table in front of me and covering my chair. 

I can't imagine why he's still single.

I don't think I'll be attending any more of their events.

My horoscope

"You are in the midst of a growth spurt right now, and might be feeling the pains that come along with it. To get over the discomfort of this transition, just keep reminding yourself that you are moving away from great confusion and toward clearer, simpler ways of thinking. The people you have left behind were distracting you more than you initially realized. All that is over now, and you can look forward to a greater feeling of self-worth and self-confidence."

Well that seems apropos, doesn't i?

The highlights of my day

• Two separate passengers called me bitch. One apologized.

• Fifteen teenage boys in suits and ties rode my bus, talking at the top of their lungs the whole way.

• I saw five giant bucks, one with a HUGE rack.

• I almost witnessed a car accident.

• I had to stop for two separate fire trucks and one ambulance.

• A little old lady tried to scam me for the fare by pretending she didn't speak English.

• Eleven cops went racing up Table Mesa. One said she was "waiting to ID a vehicle," whatever that means.

• I had a nice visit with one of my supervisors.

• I started a new book: Healing Anger: The Power of Patience from a Buddhist Perspective, by the Dalai Lama.

• I picked up a document from work so I could file a grievance.

• A drunk, homeless man with no money tried to bully his way on my bus.

• I talked to my friend Diane.
  

And this is why I do it

"If he wrote it he could get rid of it.  

He had gotten rid of many things 

by writing them."

Thank you for understanding, Ernest Hemingway.

One round with Knuckle-Cracking Toupe Man

I stopped at Caffe Sol for a French Press.  A small, thick man with a very bad toupe decided to sit down next to me.

He moved to the right of his table and set down his computer bag. Then, for some unknown reason, he felt the need to slide between our two tables to put his jacket down. I moved my coffee over, so that he wouldn't knock it over with his coat. He then did the same thing with his newspaper: He slid in between the two tables instead of from the open, other side of his table.

Toupe Man finally sat down and got all plugged in. And then, suddenly:

"CRACK!"

My head snapped around.  What the hell?!  Was that his knuckles?

A few minutes later:

"CRACK! POP! CRACK!"

Holy smokes. Each time it startled me because, well, I'm sitting right next to him.

This goes on every 3 minutes for about 15 minutes until finally I say:

"I'm sorry, could you stop popping your knuckles? It's very distracting."

To which he replies:

"NO."

Me: "Are you serious?"

Him:  no answer

Me:  "Sir, you are a selfish ass.  Why don't you go back to California, where you came from?"

Him: Stoney silence.

Why are people so fucking rude?  Do they think they're the only people in the universe?

I hate u.

What is wrong with you people?

Some fucker hit my car and then bailed without leaving a note.  

I didn't discover the dent until last week, when I finally washed my car. It could have happened anywhere over the past two months.

I went to the claims adjuster today, and guess how much it's going to cost to fix it?

$477

And guess how much my deductable is?

$500

I hate u people!

Society killed this man

"Upbeat" prep school president leaps from eighth floor of Marriott

Not a single person close to him knew that he was depressed. Not ONE.

"It's just one of these great unexplained tragedies in life — an example of what all you don't know about the kind of pain some people live with," said Ben Johnson, chairman at the 2,850-student school.

Society teaches us to keep all those ugly, sad thoughts to ourselves. We wouldn't want to spoil anyone's good time, now would we?

Truly, it's not normal

Sorry.  I just haven't been that angry lately.

But don't worry.  I'm sure it won't last long.  Someone will do something to piss me off.  

It's just a matter of time.

Forgiven, but never forgotten

It's been one month since I ended my friendship with my best friend.  

I'm not so angry now.  I think I can say that I've forgiven him. Thank god for this blog, or all that anger would have had no place else to go.  I'm still hurt--and justly so--but I no longer want to cry every time I think about how he was able to write me off so easily. I'm sure he hasn't given me a second thought since it all went down Dec. 7.  He's out traveling around Ireland somewhere, drinking Guinness in youthful bliss with the girl I introduced him to.

Aren't they cute?

The bottom line is this:  He had no respect for me.  It's a common theme in all my posts about him.  Surely I have some culpability in that, but I honestly don't know how it happened and so can't ensure it won't happen again.  It didn't start out that way.  He used to look up to me, ask me for advice, consider my opinions.  He needed me.  And that made me feel useful, helpful, respected and loved.

I never should have let myself get so close to someone so young and immature.  Someone so completely self-absorbed that he can't even see that what he did to me was hurtful, let alone apologize for it.  I hope that someday he'll realize that he was dishonest, deceptive, and incredibly disrespectful to me--but I'm not holding my breath.  It would be the "right thing" for him to do, but I don't need his apology to move on.  I did manage to get him to grudgingly admit that he lied to me (which I did need to move on), but he still won't accept responsibility for his actions over the past several months, nor acknowledge how patient, forgiving and understanding I was for such a very long time.  I was such an optimist.

I loved him dearly.  He was family.  We started off as friends, as equals, but after he met his girlfriend, he was more of a little brother to me, and when his pattern of disrespect became obvious, I felt more and more like a mother to him.  And he treated me as such.  He was never really "sensitive" to my feelings, but for the first half of our friendship, he did share a great deal of his life and his emotions with me.  I wish he could remember how close we were.    

But then he cut me off, stopped sharing his life with me, and really only continued inviting me places because he felt a sense of obligation.  Now, when he found the time to talk, he only talked about himself, his life, his troubles, his girlfriend.  "What if she finds out about _________?"  "What if she doesn't like that I _________?"  "What if I can't live up to her expectations?"  Every decision he made, it seemed, was based on what his girlfriend would think of him.  

My friends had this take on it: "He's 26, and thinking with his penis now," which might be true, but it didn't make me feel any better.

And he stopped asking me about me.  Completely.  He was consumed with her--and her family. There just didn't seem to be room in his brain for anything else.  He would call me and just rant, not asking where I was, what I was doing, how my day was going.  Nothing.  He would just rant about his life, and then say he had to go and hang up.  

And I wasn't the only one: His other friends complained that he no longer returned their calls or text messages, that he rarely came out with them anymore.  He definitely showed us all what was most important to him.

I felt like he lost himself in finding her.  He stopped talking about becoming a fireman. Climbing is his passion, but he has been only twice since they met.  Even after she left for Slovakia, everything he did was about her.  And her family.  Whatever they wanted, they got. He was at their beck and call.  He so wanted their approval that he would have done anything to get it--including sacrificing his best friend.

About two months after I introduced him to her, I could see that our friendship was done.  So I called him.  

"I don't think we can be friends anymore."

Him:  "What?!  Why not?"

Me:  "Because you aren't yourself anymore.  You don't include me in things anymore.  We don't do stuff together anymore.  And you won't even return my calls or text messages.  You clearly don't want to be my friend.  And I don't want to be this kind of friend with you."

Him: "But I do!  I've just been busy!  I've just never been in love before, and I don't know how to handle it.  I'm sorry, I'll be a better friend."

Me:  "I just can't do it.  It hurts too much.  You aren't going to have time for me anymore, because you're consumed with her and her new family, and we're going to end up talking to each other less and less until finally we're just acquaintances.  And I don't want that.  I'd rather just end our friendship now.  And you've already separated yourself from me a great deal, whether you realize it or not.  So now you need to let ME separate myself from YOU a little, ok?  So that I can get some of myself back."

Him:  "No, that's stupid!  You're acting stupid.  I'll do better.  I can be that friend again."

But he couldn't.  I mean, he tried, but he was just going through the motions.   He didn't want to admit to himself that he was that kind of a person.  You know, the kind of person who abandons his best friend for a girl.  Because honestly, who wants to be that person?  NOBODY likes that person.   So it was easier for him to live in denial and hurt me even more, than to just acknowledge the truth and let me go.  Why are the young so selfish?  

Now, I won't get to see him get married, have kids, build his life.

But I have learned my lesson.

And while it was painful, really good things came out of our friendship, too.

He got me looking at life differently:  about how sedentary my life had become, reminding me how much I love being outside, being active.  About how good it feels to be fit and healthy.  He helped me buy all my gear--from camping stuff to mountain bikes--and for that I'm grateful. He jump-started me, so to speak, from my routine couch-potato life, and I'm better because of it.

He also got me reading again for the first time since college.  I used to LOVE to read, but after 4 years of text books, I hadn't picked up anything but magazines and short stories since 1999. Now I've got a small library going.  

He reminded me that you don't know who your true friends are until they're tested.  Then their true colors come shining through.

And he's taught me to keep my heart more closely guarded.  I typically wear it on my sleeve, and when I feel an instant connection with someone, I don't hold back.   I share it all.  

I trust. 

I'm hoping I won't be stupid enough to do that again.  

The "L" Word: A Middle School Story

He could never say that he loved me.

Ok, maybe once or twice, but you could tell it made him uncomfortable, just like it did when we were in middle school and, you know, like 12.

I tell all my close friends that I love them, and often. There's nothing wrong with that. I think it's healthy. I could be killed by a bus tomorrow, and what if I hadn't told them? What if I hadn't said it outloud?

It's not as though he couldn't say it: Within two months of living with his future sister-in-law, I heard him say "love you" when he was ending a call with her. I'm sure he did the same with the rest of the family.

So apparently, it was just that he didn't love me.

To this day, I don't understand why he even said he wanted to be my friend. I mean, how can you pretend to be friends with someone you don't really care about? Why would you?  Unless he was just in it for the financial gains:  I spent more than $1,000 on him over the past year in meals, beers, and gifts.  I even paid his phone bill once.  Was I just completely blind to a very good con artist?   Could he really have been that selfish and shallow?   

Appreciation 101

Oh, but did I mention that he "appreciates me so much"?  That's what he kept saying to me.  "But I appreciate you so much!"

Yes, these are all clearly the acts of someone who appreciates me.  

Seriously, how did he think he was showing his appreciation?  Just spending time with me doing the things we always do is NOT showing your appreciation for me.  You show someone you appreciate them by going out of your way, by going above and beyond the "usual."  

A nice note left in my mailbox, for example, thanking me for my friendship.

Taking me to the movies.

A cheap lunch would have been nice.

Offering to buy the first beer--also good.

A random hug (which practically vanished after I introduced him to his girlfriend.)

Riding on my bus with me, for no reason at all, (instead, he preferred hanging out in the Driver's Room).

It's all the little things he could have done, but didn't, that hurt so much.  It's a horrible feeling to know that you've done so much for someone--that you adore someone--who has so little regard for you.  I just feel like an ass.  Like an old, lonely, forgotten fool. 

To give him credit where credit is due, however, there is ONE time I can recall when he went above and beyond, and that was the day his girlfriend was being weird with him during one of their many Skype conversations, where she made doubtful statements to him about their relationship.  I mean, he finally meets the love of his life and then is forced to WAIT FOR NINE MONTHS while she goes on some foreign exchange teaching program, and then she says that to him?  What can he really say to her to reassure her when she's thousands of miles away? That had to be torture for him.   

So he was clearly concerned about the things she'd said, but he still kept his promise to meet me that day.  He spent almost the entire afternoon with me.  And it meant the world to me.  

It's the little things, ya know?  Why couldn't he just show me he appreciated me with the little, thoughtful things?  They don't cost much.

They just require an ounce of thoughtfulness.

Come on! Let's go skydiving!

For months now, you've been trying to get your best friend to go skydiving with you.

When you first brought it up, he was totally into it, but a week or two later, he balked about the cost, saying it was too expensive, and that he had to save all his money for his upcoming trip to Slovakia.

Sooo, about two months after this conversation, he calls you up and says, excitedly, "Hey, I was talking to Marta (his new best friend), and she said one of her lifelong dreams is to go skydiving, so we're going!"    *pause*  "Wanna come?"


What. An. Asshole.

Why should I pay you back?

He moved out of his mom's house about a month before he met his girlfriend. I helped him move, and bought him several things he needed to get settled into his new place. It was May, I think.

But one thing he didn't have was a bed.

I found one for him on Craigslist. It was $100, not too old, and the right size, so I set up a time to take a look at it.

I called my friend and told him I'd found him a bed.

Him: "I can't buy it yet. I don't have any money till payday."

Me: "I'll front you the money for it. You have to have a bed."

Him: "Really? Thanks! My girlfriend's coming over next week, so it would be nice to have a bed! I can pay you back on payday, ok?"

Me: "No worries, you don't have to pay it back right away."

Him: "No, I will. I promise. I don't like to be in debt to people, and I take my debts very seriously."

Good to know.

A few paydays come and go and there was no offer to pay me back, but I don't need the money right away, so it's no big deal.

Several months pass, and it comes up in conversation. He says he's just got a lot of bills now, and that he's trying to save all his money for his girlfriend, so can he pay me later? I say sure, I can wait until you get a little more financially secure, and I tell him that he can make payments, too--$20 here, $20 there--whatever.

Six months later, he still has not paid one cent toward what he owes me.

NOT. ONE. CENT.

But he HAS:

Gone to Steamboat snowboarding for the weekend,

where he went to the movies, and out for dinner and beers

Bought a $200 camera at Cosco for his trip to Slovakia

Bought a bike rack for his car (which he told me he bought used off

Craigslist, when in fact he bought it

brand-new at Rocky Mounts)

Bought a new mountain bike (a Rocky Mountain Element)

Bought his ticket to Slovakia

Bought tickets to see Tori Amos

Bought tickets to see Ben Harper

Visited the Botanic Gardens for the Holiday Lights

Bought books for himself, gifts for people,

and took several women out to dinner

So I'm thinking he had a little extra money to pay me back.

But he insisted he "appreciated me." He had a funny way of showing it.

He finally did pay me back in mid-December, after I ended our friendship and told him that "he'd better put that money in my mailbox BEFORE he leaves for Slovakia."

The only time the man has ever bought me dinner

Ever since your best buddy started seeing a new girl, he no longer has time for you.  He says he has to work on all his days off now so that he can pay down his debt, you know, for his new life with his new girlfriend.

So he finally makes plans to spend the afternoon with you on his day off, but says he first has to do a little construction work in the morning.  "I'll be done by early afternoon.  I'll give you a call when I'm done, and we can go do a hike or something fun."

Cool.  I'm psyched because I hardly see him anymore.

I had some things to do in the morning, and then came home and changed, had lunch, and waited for him to call.

I waited,

And waited,

And waited.

Three o'clock came and went and no call.  Then 4 o'clock.  And 5 o'clock.  And 6 o'clock.  Clearly, we're not going hiking.

So I call him.

Me:  "Um, where are you?"

Him:  "I'm working."

Me:  "You told me you were going to be off by early afternoon."

Him:  "The job took longer than we thought cuz we hit this snag."

Me:  "Why didn't you call me, so I'm not wasting my whole day sitting here?"

Him:  "I didn't know it would take this long.  But I'll be there soon.  We're on our way in from Denver now."

Me:  "Okie doke."

Denver is 30 minutes away, tops.  



But 7 o'clock comes and goes, and still no word from him.  Then 8.  Surely he'll be considerate enough to call?  

Nope.

I call him, again.

Me:  "Wtf?  Are we doing something tonight, or what?  You said you'd be here in like an hour, but that was two hours ago!"

Him:  "I'll be there in 20 minutes."

He arrives at 8:30.  I'm annoyed and starving.  He offers a half-assed apology, and asks what I want to do.  

A man of character would have offered to take me to dinner.

He didn't.

So, instead, I TELL him he's buying dinner, and that we're going to Sherpa's.  He doesn't argue, because he knows he's been an inconsiderate asshole.  I even ordered dessert.  



Perhaps he won't treat me like ass next time.  

I ask you:  Is that respect?  Is that how friends treat each other?  Is that how you show someone you "care alot" about them?  That you "appreciate" them?

I just didn't want to see it

So you haven't seen much of your best friend lately, because he's got a new girlfriend and has moved in with her family way the fuck out in Longmont, about a half-hour's drive.  

You have the same days off, and you've been asking him for weeks to go hiking or biking with you, but he keeps telling you that he has to spend all his days off working.  

Me:  "All of them? How 'bout just one of them, so we can hang out one of those days?"

Him: "I have to work both days.  I need the money, and as long as the work is there, I can't say no."

Me:  "But you said you were going to make the effort in this friendship, to fix the things you botched after you met your girlfriend, didn't you?"

Him: "I know, I am, but I just have to work right now."

Me:  "Well how are we going 'fix this friendship' if we never see each other anymore?  How is that possible?  Can you see how that makes no sense?"

Him:  "I'm sorry, but work is more important than friends right now.  I have to make work my first priority."

Yikes.  Kinda sad that he actually said it outloud, but I did appreciate the honesty.

It's another promise broken, but he's my friend.  I forgive him.  If he thinks money is more important than friends, so be it.  I can't do anything to change that.

Anyhow, after about three weeks of this, he says, "Hey, I'm not working on my days off this week; wanna do something?"

Me:  "Hell yeah!  Whatcha wanna do?  Dinner?  Beers?"

Him:  "I don't know yet, but I'll call ya."

His car wouldn't start the first day, so he spent all day and half the next fixing it.  He finally called on the evening of his second day off.

Me:  "Hey, how come you didn't call?  I thought we were going to do something?"

Him:  "I had to drive my roommate to Nebraska."

Me:  "Um, what?"  

Him:  "She had to drive to Nebraska, and it was dark, and she needed someone to help her drive."

In my head:  Why?  Isn't she a grown woman?  Does she drive a 1985 Ford Escort?  Are you afraid she'll get lost?  Is she unable to change a tire?  And if not, she can't call Road Service, like the rest of us?

Me:  "Are you kidding?  You chose to drive her clear to Nebraska instead of hang out with a friend you haven't seen much in 3 weeks?  You see her every day!"

Him:  "I couldn't let her drive to Nebraska in the dark BY HERSELF!"

Oh God no.  That would be unthinkable.  

Isn't that thoughtful.  He's never shown concern when I've had to drive in the dark over long distances.  So that little slap in the face sent me a clear message:  His friendship with me is not as important to him as making nice with his future sister-in-law.   

Why did I believe him when he said he'd fix what he broke in our friendship?  

I'm a trusting fool.

In which I am traded in for his girlfriend's family

So you introduce your best friend to the love of his life, and they hit it off swimmingly.

So well, in fact, that your friend decides he must move out of the cute little place he's renting so that he can find something "super cheap, cuz I have to save a ton of money.  Can you help me find something?"  he asks in a panic one day.  "I don't care what kind of rathole it is.  Just help me find something really cheap, ok?"

Sure!  What are friends for!

So I spend several hours online searching for rentals for him--all matching his criteria--and emailing them to him over the course of several days. Not a single response from him at all. Not even a "thank you."

A week later he tells me that he's moving into his girlfriend's sister's house in Longmont.  Why did it take him A WEEK to tell me?  

We used to talk on the phone every single day.  He used to send me 10 or more text message every single day.  He used to tell me EVERYTHING.  

Longmont is a half-hour away.  "Great," I think, "I'll never see him again." And, in fact, he doesn't invite me up for nearly 2 months, and then, it wasn't an invitation to his HOUSE, it was an invitation to meet him at a bar in Longmont.  I guess he was too embarrassed to introduce me to his new family.  But when he told his roommate he was meeting me, she said, "Why don't you just have her come over here?"

She's a good woman.  But why wouldn't he do that on his own?  

And that was the ONLY invitation I ever received from him to come over. When he lived in Eldo, he was ALWAYS inviting me over.  "Come over and help me drink these beers? You can stay here tonight." Or, "Why don't you come over and hang out on the deck with me.  It's gorgeous out here," and sweet stuff like that.  He really was such a sweet boy.  Why did he have to change?

We were very close.  We used to tell each other everything.  He's forgotten, and that hurts my heart.

Please, stop

Meg? Jen? Sarah? I have asked you to stop coming here. Why do you? To gloat? Do you find my emotions amusing? What do you care what I write here? It isn't about you. You all got what you wanted, didn't you? You've got him all to yourselves now. And you're all his No. 1 priority. He's part of YOUR family now.

Isn't that enough for you?

I introduced him to your family.  None of you would even know him, if it weren't for me.  So what else could you possibly want from me?

He picked YOU.  You WIN.

Please stop coming here.

Money spent and gifts given to an ungrateful boy

My old Macintosh (going rate on eBay): $300
Macintosh cord (which he lost): $38 on eBay
Macintosh gift certificate (to get a replacement cord for the one he lost): $80
Books on writing for his birthday (so he could do some freelancing in Slovakia): $90
At least 60 breakfasts, lunches and dinners: $1,000
Countless beers: $150
A bed (which took him six months to pay back): $100
Phone bill: $300
Hammock: $80
Triathlon heart-rate monitor for Christmas: $100
Dinner at the Spaghetti Factory for him, his dad, stepmom, sister and myself: $90
Lunch I brought to his bus when he was broke and starving (three times): $30
Borat: $10
A climbing camalot (which I ended up returning before I could give it to him, because he was being such an asshole): $69

I'm sure there's plenty I've forgotten, and the list doesn't include all the nice things I did for him that didn't cost a penny, like finding uniforms in his size so he wouldn't have to buy any, making bank deposits for him, helping him move, helping him find an apartment, etc.

The definition of "lie"

Webster's New World College Dictionary:

Lie: 1) to make a statement that one knows is false, especially with intent to deceive, 2) to give a false impression; deceive one; --n. 1) a false statement or action, especially one made with intent to deceive; 2) anything that gives or is meant to give a false impression

Dishonest: 1) not honest; lying, cheating, etc.

Deceive: 1) to make (a person) believe what is not true; delude; mislead 2) to be false to; betray --vt. to use deceit; lie

Prevaricate: 1) to turn aside from, or evade, the truth; 2) to tell an untruth; lie --SYN. LIE

Equivocate: 1) to use equivocal terms in order to deceive, mislead, hedge, etc.; be deliberately ambiguous --SYN. LIE

Fabricate: 2) to make up (a story, reason, lie, etc.) ; invent --SYN. LIE

Fib: 1) a small or trivial lie. --SYN. LIE


Other, related words:

Disrespect: 1) lack of respect or esteem; discourtesy --vt. to have or show lack of respect for [he disrespected me when he lied to me]

Betray: 2) to break faith with; fail to meet the hopes of [he betrayed my trust in him]

And the antonym for "appreciate," as in "I appreciate you so much": ungrateful, disregard, disrespect

###

I wish he could have admitted that he lied to me, but he was so determined to stick to his interpretation of the word, instead of admitting to the fact that he had been disrespecting me for months, in one way or another.  It doesn't really matter what label you give your actions, does it?  Lies?  Deceit?  Omission?  Dishonesty?  Disrespect?    It's all the same thing, anyway. But he already knows that.

God has a sick sense of humor

I found out two days before Christmas that the dear woman who practically raised me has six months to live. I have one picture of her, with some of the Felde Clan. The baby in her lap--Jeannine--is my age now.  We grew up together.



I love you, Mrs. Felde.

(A positive update:  She is in hospice, but it's possible her illness could go into remission again.  Yay!  I'll pray for this.)

I'll just park here, in the MIDDLE OF THE ROAD

No one will mind if I just park here, will they? My truck is just too big for these tiny little Boulder spaces, and Target was so busy that there wasn't a space right near the front, so what ELSE could I do? I saw the available space 20 feet away, but I simply HAD to park here in the middle of the road. Who cares if it's difficult for other people to get around me? I AM THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE!

Santa is a Dick

Mmm, chicken noodle soup

What kind of person PUKES on a bus, and then just walks off? Without a word to anyone? And how can NOBODY have seen, heard or smelled what happened?

In the World of RTD, it's called a "hot lunch." That's how you call it in to Dispatch, instead of announcing that someone has blown their lunch all over the floor of your bus.

I think it was Chicken Noodle Soup. There was a lot of liquid in it, and every time I turned a corner, it ran all over the bus. The stench was awful. Opening the windows didn't help. I didn't even notice it till the end of the trip, when I walked my bus to collect garbage.

Fortunately, it was my last trip, but my poor relief driver had to drive it that way for a bit until they could get him another bus.

I mean seriously, what is wrong with people? Were they raised by wolves?

Stop with that horrible overdone song already

If I hear "Amazing Grace" played at one more funeral on the news, they're going to have to dig another hole.

I have a brief announcement:

I hate Christmas.

That is all.

Sasquatch must be on vacation

No dead cat on the doormat today, but yesterday I saw there was a giant note from management taped to the front door of the apartment above me, and this morning, it was still there. They must be out of town. I wonder where Sasquatch goes when he goes on vacation?

Sasquatch meets Officer Bob(Chapter 2)

I had to call the cops on Bigfoot last night.

After three hours of listening to my upstairs' neighbor banging, dropping and bumping into things, I gave the wall three solid pounds with my fist, as is the custom now. This means:

PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP!

YOU'RE LOUD AND ANNOYING!

OTHER PEOPLE EXIST!

But in the nicest possible way, of course.

He then went outside and banged on the metal railing in the courtyard about FORTY TIMES.

Freak.

Then he left, for which I was grateful. I'd hoped that his little outburst helped him get it all out of his system, and that we could resume our lives in our tiny, uninsulated apartments.

They got home at 10. I had just hit the hay and was drifting off to sleep. He walked straight into his bedroom--which is directly above mine--and began dropping heavy objects on the floor. Raucous laughter immediately followed.

He has no idea who he's messing with.

I call the police, and tell them the whole story of Sasquatch. They send someone out to talk to him.

I go back to sleep, as I have a long day of really bad snowboarding ahead of me. If you've ever learned to snowboard, you know how exhausting this is. I need my rest.

When I got home from Breckenridge, I went straight to the management office and told them that some dude had moved in upstairs 10 days ago, and that he was loud and a bit psycho, and that I had to call the police last night, and could they do anything to help me?

Turns out, they had no record of a man living up there (No!?), even though the lease clearly states that no one is permitted to stay more than a few days without paying a significant increase in rent. They assured me they would approach it from that angle.

Courtesy and respect go SO MUCH FARTHER than acting like an asshole. Why can't the world figure this out?

I'll keep you posted. Hopefully, there won't be a dead cat at my doorstep when I step out tomorrow.

Relax

I keep my promises, even for people who don't deserve it.

Move along, there's nothing to see here

This blog is for me.  I don't post here because I hope others will read it, in fact, I wish none of you had (i.e. Selfish Boy's new girlfriend's entire family, and, it appears, about 10 people at the Steamboat Pilot & Today). But I don't keep a hand-written journal under my pillow. This is it.

But, since I know that every one of you has been peeking in here repeatedly, I will say this:

The last several posts were all about the hurt and anger I felt at being used, betrayed and disrespected by one person, someone I thought was a close friend--my best friend. Those of you who know how important my friends are to me will understand how painful that was, is, and will be for a very long time.

This is how I chose to express my anger. That is my prerogative. And I won't apologize for it, either. I DID initially and frequently express it directly to the person who caused it; he didn't care enough or respect me enough to explain his actions or stop repeating the behavior, hence my decision to end our friendship. Admitting to the way he has deceived and disrespected me the last few months would have helped, but he didn't have enough self-awareness to even admit his mistakes to himself--let alone to me--to give me that.

I am very sad that some of you have chosen to see only one side of it and that you've decided to judge me so harshly. But that is YOUR prerogative. In MY group of friends, when two people disagree, get pissed off at each other, or go their separate ways, everyone else doesn't get involved. And NO ONE says, "Well, if you aren't going to be friends with Anne, then I can't be friends with you." Because, well, that would be a little immature and petty, kinda like high school.

I guess what I don't understand is why your family is "hurt" by the things I SAID, instead of concerned by the horrible things he DID. All I did was put his actions and my feelings in writing. I didn't create those actions; I DOCUMENTED them. It's like shooting the messenger. I am the one who should be hurt and upset. And I am. If he'd treated any of the sisters the way he treated me, your entire family would be outraged. But he treats you and your family the way he USED to treat me: Like queens. With love and affection. With respect.  Can you imagine how it felt when he traded me in for your family? 

So please go away now. I'm hurt enough already. First rejected by my best friend, and now rejected by an entire family. There's no need to add any more fuel to the fire, is there? So move along. There's nothing to see here.