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i’m posting a blog i wrote on my (cough cough) myspace a long time ago, but it really bears re-posting - i think i covered everything that angers me pretty well.  seriously, what is the DEAL with disgusting, slovenly, creepy guys saying the first thing about you that pops into their mind. it’s infuriating, degrading, and offensive. and it’s gotten so bad that it recently forced me to say the dreaded “f word” while i was on the phone with my mom: i was in the park, on the phone with her, when this weird (probably not-quite-right), creepy, older-looking guy came up in front of me and just stood there.  he didn’t say anything but i knew he was up to no good.

“i’m on the phone,” i said - which was my was of warning him “nicely.” he still stood there, and then asked if i was single.  i told him, more forcefully this time, that i was ON THE PHONE.  he kept asking me, several times in a row, if i was single.  finally i burst out, “that’s none of your fucking business!!!”

of course, my mom on the other end was probably mortified. this is the woman who prefers i not use words like “pee” and “butt” - in fact, when i was growing up, they were completely off-limits.  now, if i say them, or other sundry “offensive” words i throw in from time to time (sucks, crap, blows, damn, hell), i just get a disappointed exclamation of my name.  which, rather to my surprise, is how she handled my f-bomb. i thought she’d flip a little more.  but i explained to her that you had to be firm, and even rude and bitchy (yes, i even said bitchy) sometimes, or people just don’t get it.

she said that you could be firm, but still be gracious and classy (oh my mother, the absolute epitome and bastion of class. i love her).   i told her my first statement - the “i’m on the phone” - *was* me being gracious and classy.  that after years of dealing with these kind of outbursts and people, i’d kind of gotten it down to a bit of a science. then she said jokingly and rather sarcastically, “yes, it must me such a burden being good looking” (like she, btw, is one to talk).  and i said, actually it is. and it’s not that i wish i wasn’t attractive, i just wish guys would learn to be respectful.

so without further adeiu, here is my original post:

i’ve had it. i’m sick of the crazy-ass people who apparently think that catcalling / grunting / commenting / leering / otherwise being a nasty prick, is somehow going to get them some positive feedback. i’m assuming, of course, that that’s what they *are* thinking - certainly they can’t be doing this for anyone’s edification, right? based on (unfortunately, disturbingly) vast experience, i’ve compiled a list of usual offenders. take note, bitches.

1. the homeless or might-as-well-be-homeless leerer: yes, i have my ipod on and i walk by like i haven’t heard anything (just like i do when you ask for money b/c yah, when it comes down to it i *am* cold and heartless … i have no choice, thanks to you), but i hear you, and i don’t understand. i mean really. i only want to know WHY WHY WHY FOR THE LOVE OF SWEET JEHOVAH WHY?! what do you think you’re going to accomplish? i’m well dressed. put together. business-looking even. i’m clearly not a crack-whore. i’m clearly walking *home* - and by home i mean a place with walls, and a roof, in a building with a concierge. not “home” to a box in a an alley. you think you have a chance? this one truly doesn’t leave me time to be *that* disgusted, b/c it makes me curious more than anything.

2. the ghetto-fabulus leerer: ahem. ok. i understand i may have that universal “look” - the cliche “tall, skinny, blonde” thing. i also understand “attraction” crosses race, economic (and even gender) boundaries — for some people. not for me, bitches. i like my men white and well-off. but i get it. you don’t know me and here i am, tall skinny and blonde, walking in your hood (i’m talking about one hood in particular, and believe me, i *wouldn’t* be there if i had a choice …). i’ve clearly put more than 5 minutes into my appearance (which is more than i can say for a lotta chickies in this area), and done more than pull some rumpled sweatpants out of the closet (again … more than i can say …). oh, and i’m not your baby mama (*again* …). i understand. you *just don’t know* what to do when you see such an uncommon sight! ok, i’ll tell you. just stop. i’m better dressed / more put together / more confident for a reason. i’m way out of your league. so again i say, stop.

3. the (sleazy) business man: (i say sleazy b/c i see *plenty* of the non-sleazy ones during my commute. a lot of them are relatively attractive. they leave me alone.) you must think you see your “equal,” b/c i look professional, independent and confidant. can you guess which statement you’re right about? apparently not, so i’ll help you out. i am professional, independent and confidant. you are not my equal. let’s put the fact that i’m married aside. (and this goes for all the above mentioned offenders:) i would never ever EVER NEVER EVER *EVER* be so flattered by your .5 seconds of attention while passing on the street that i’d feel i *must* get to know you, turn around, and run after you. i’m just trying to help out here, and since your above actions are so imbecile, i have to think you really might not know that. (ps- no other relatively attractive woman - who i’m sure you also leer at - will ever turn around and run after you. just a tip.)

4. the idiot i somehow get dragged into conversation with: i do a lot to avoid you. i’m reading, listening to an ipod, walking fast, not responding to you. yet somehow (be it in a store, a prison-like situation on a bus, in line at starbucks, whatever) i am forced into conversation with you. forced into questions like, “do you model?” (no, really, how cliche). now, i’m not a total bitch. i find it hard to just come out and say, “leave me alone.” but to me, that’s what my body language was doing already. you’re clearly stupid. so you talk, and i give one word responses if i absolutely have to. any other normal person would just leave me alone. it’s not that i’m shy, or that i’ll eventually respond to you. no. i just want you to shut the hell up.

5. the under-age gangsta-kid: ok. i look young, i know. but lord have mercy, not *that* young. so that can only mean one thing. you think older women are hot, and your (probably absentee) fathers are best described by # 2 (see above). the hope for your future is diminishing quickly. that’s all i have to say about you.

**general note**
these leering perpetrators have to know at least one thing - the girls they’re ogling are probably ogled by a decent number of other people. here’s something you must not know: we’re used to it, we hate it, and we hate you. (i’m counting out the skanky / want to be stared at / purposely dress to get attention crew.) it *doesn’t* make me feel special. this is a big city, with a lot of very attractive people. that means your leering activities must take up a lot of your time. how sad for you.

so, like i mentioned, i’ve been doing some freelance work.  one place i moonlight is waaaaay out in the boonies of the city - it takes me like an hour to get there. i’ll go out there for a couple hours after i’ve already put in 8 hours at my day job - so needless to say when i’m coming home, it’s pretty late.  fortunately there are two busses (i thought) that run as close as door-to-door as i’m going to get at 9 or 10 pm.  last week i found out there is really only *one* bus that does said door-to-door running - and it’s not the one i initially got on.  i took one bus out to this place, and i went ahead and took the same bus back when i was finished.  only problem is … it stops going as far as i need it to, once it gets past, like 7pm.  after 7, it stops in Seedy McSketchy-ville.

when we got to this point, and the bus driver kicked us all off, i briefly thought of just staying on the bus, riding it back to a safer area, getting off there and catching another bus or a cab.  then i realized, most of the area that bus drives through are sketchy. i’d have to ride it halfway back to where i’d been freelancing before i felt safe getting off in a neighborhood i didn’t know at 10 pm.

i was at least familiar with the area where i had to get off. ironic thing is, it’s actually closer, blocks-wise, to my apartment than the stop i was going to get off at.  but walking home west to east is sketchier than walking home east to west.   that’s just how it is.  one block you’re in a ritzy shopping district, the next, you’re being ushered into a porno store by a homeless crack addict.  not kidding.

so there i was - in ghetto-town, 10 pm, on the corner of meth junkie and crack whore, tall, white, blonde and alone. i wasn’t ABOUT  to walk the (mere) 6 blocks back to my building through that mess. so it took me about .25 seconds to decide to take a cab. well, since meth junkies and crack addicts aren’t known for their common use of cabs, there’s not a WHOLE lot going thru those parts.  thank GOD there was a tiny little donut shop on the corner that’s open 24 hours. i went in there to be partially safe, and call a cab.  while i was on hold with the cab company, i saw a couple taxis go by, so i decided to walk out to the bus stop and try to hail a cab from there.

after a couple seconds i got one to pull over, but he wouldn’t let me in. he asked me where i was going, and when i told him, he refused to take me.  the problem was you can’t turn toward the direction of my apartment from the street he was on - he would have had to circle the block, instead of making a direct turn. he was like, ” go walk down to X street, and catch one there.” the whole POINT of getting a cab was to avoid certain death by walking ANYWHERE.  i told him i didn’t care, he could circle the block, and tried to open the door. then, i SHIT YOU NOT, he DROVE THE FUCK AWAY!  i’m SO not even kidding. i’m a BLONDE, well dressed girl in the middle of the ghetto!  i would’ve paid you double just to let me get in the fucking cab!! but aside from that, it should have been obvious i was in distress!

so anyway, a minute later i hailed another cab, who took me around the block and didn’t bitch at all.  i looked up the website of the first cab company so i could leave feedback, but no such luck.  guess i’ll have to call my complaint in - those bitches are gonna get an earful.

i ride public transportation to work. over-all i’m greatful for it. it enables me to get around the city relatively easily and not have a car. boiled down, i guess it saves me about $500 bucks a month. but SOOOOOOMETIMES …

ok - the above title is a little misleading, but not far from the truth. MUNI recently changed around some of its “light rail” lines (which i put in quotes because in my mind light rail denotes something fast, and well, let’s be honest here) - mainly affecting the one i use to go to work. the first week it was AWEFUL. one morning, i waited at a station for my train for 35 minutes. that’s WAIT time - not even including travel! i took a lot of cabs that week. so, it’s been getting better from there, but not a lot.

this morning, i waited for bus A for about 10-15 minutes. rode on that for about 10 minutes (apx 6 blocks - i know i could walk that far in that time - more on that in a sec). got to the station to wait for bus B (light rail) and was there for about 15 minutes. by the time the train came, there were so many people waiting for it, it was more crowded than normal. and when that happens, it seems like the bus takes even LONGER to get to your destination. i was on that for about 10-15 minutes. so it took me about 45 minutes to an hour to get to work today.

let me put it in perspective. i commute within a seven-square mile city. i work about one mile from my apartment. it took me almost at hour to go a little over a mile. i used to commute out of the city, and that’s how long it took me to go about 50 miles! granted, you can’t compare traffic, driving, pollution, boredom etc - i’d take public transportation over than any day. but still.

now … i know i could walk. on a good day it might take me a few minutes longer to walk, but on average i’d say it’d take me about the same amount of time or less. the problem is, it’s such a pain - even more so than riding the bus. i already usually have two bags. if i walked - especially during the summer - i’d at least need a change of shoes, if not a change of clothes. plus, it’s cold a lot in the mornings, rains a lot, is foggy a lot. i don’t want to walk in that, or worse - have to ride a bike in that!! i’m SOOOO not that kind of person. i want to get to work looking put together and professional, not sweaty and wearing my gym clothes.

i can be a bitchy, opinionated person, but the other thing is, i’m pretty passive aggressive. if someone’s annoying me, i might be rude to them (like purposely bump into them if they’re checking their cell phone while walking and not paying attention …), but i rarely confront random people because of their actions. the other day i decided to change that.

I was on the bus (where most annoying injustices occur), and this lady was sitting up in front, a few seats away from me. the front seats are supposed to be reserved for “seniors, and persons with disabilities,” and she was probably a senior, so whatever. the thing was, she had a heap of bags taking up the seat next to her. on an uncrowded bus, i do this all the time, so i don’t have to put my stuff on the floor, but this particular bus was becoming more and more crowded, and she didn’t move them. then, an older man got on, looking like he could hardly pull himself up the bus steps - and that hanging on to the handrail instead of sitting down might be the end of him. the lady didn’t volunteer to move her stuff, so he kindly asked her to do so. she got all huffy and proceeded to take FOR-EV-ER to pull her precious packages off the seat. when she finally had a few down, and was in the process of removing the last, the man sat gingerly on the edge of the seat - not trying at all to sit all the way back against her bags, but just enough, i’m guessing, to be able to give his body a rest. the woman pushed against his back, and flipped out - accusing him of wanting to sqash her stuff, and abruptly said, “EXCUSE ME, i’m not DONE.”

so i spoke up. i said, all he wants to do is just sit down. she got even more defensive and said, i was just trying to move my stuff. i know my rights, i am ALLOWED to have stuff on that seat. i replied and said, he’s supposed to be able to sit there and it’s just not fair that you would take a seat for yourself and a seat for your bags (or something to that effect). then she launched into this speech about how she was a lawyer, and she “wished she had her business cards on her,” and she knew she HAD THE RIGHT.” now, i don’t know how someone could be so mean and bitchy that they would actually get pissed about having to move their bags so an OLD MAN could sit down (it’s not like she even had to give up her seat)! but the cool thing was, everyone around me started to back me up. i bet six or eight people chimed in about how they couldn’t believe what she was doing, and how it wasn’t right that she should get TWO seats.

in the scheme of the universe, it was kind of a small victory. but, it was such a great feeling to know that i had SAID what all these people were thinking - and i think i’ll start doing it more often. awful people like that, who have gone through their lives doing rotten things, deserve to know that in general, society doesn’t agree with their behavior - and sometimes all it takes is one voice.

oh - and as i got up to get off at my stop, the crazy, angry lady - who was probably the same age as my grandmother - kicked me a few times in the shins as i made my way out of the bus. i just let it go, it was so petty. maybe she IS a lawyer …

(Feb 1, 2007)

I’ve always said one of the reasons I need to be on a coast is because I love the water and can’t stand being land locked. Then people point out – you don’t live on the beach, you can’t see it from where you are, and you don’t go all that often. All that is true – but for me that never really mattered. Knowing it was there was always good enough for me.

But now, another one of the randomly wonderful aspects of my work is, it’s on the Embarcadero, right across from the water. I ride the train right under the Bay Bridge and along the marina every morning. I take this for granted. I know that because I’d been doing this routine for about 5 months before it really dawned on me just how perfect this situation was. This was my ideal. Boiled down, this was one of the reasons why I moved back to California (although I knew I should never have left!), and into San Francisco. To be in such a perfect city.

So I’ve been trying to really focus on how lucky I am every morning, when my cross-city commute takes me through some of the most beautiful (non-vacation) landscape ever. I see a picturesque downtown as I walk to the metro every morning – the highrises, the amazing architecture, even the americorp building. Then when my train pops up from underground on the Embarcadero I go right by one of my coolest sculptures ever – a crazy huge bow and arrow made to look like it’s crashing into the ground. Then there’s the bridge, the mini-park, the boats parked in the marina, the palm trees.

Today as I thought about it all, I actually got a little teary-eyed. I am SO lucky. And sometimes I don’t live in the moment enough to really taste that. I have the most amazing job, at the most unbelievably cool company - which I randomly fell into before I could even realize what an opportunity it was. I live somewhere that I’m actually excited about and proud of (if you can be proud of a place you live). It’s been a long time since I felt that way.

I think some people just have places written on their hearts. Since I didn’t like Colorado, it was really hard for me to understand how people could be so in love with it. But I can’t judge them if that’s where they feel drawn to be. All I knew was I just didn’t have “that feeling” about it. (my anchors – who had been gone from CO for a while – once said that they just couldn’t stay away. I remember thinking, “are you kidding me? Whenever I go visit somewhere else, I cry when I have to get on the plane to come back here!” And I really did cry.)

Now I have the “feeling” again – and I don’t expect it to be the last time I do. There are a lot of cities out there with a lot to offer, and I plan to live in a lot of them. For now though. I’m going to do something that’s tough for me – try and focus on tasting the moment I’m living in now.