Musings from a bus

In theory, I am a firm supporter of public transit. I think it's good to reduce the number of cars on the road, public transit for me is definitely cheaper than maintaining a car, I don't have to worry about weather or traffic and can just settle in with a book and my iPod, and I am willing most of the time to deal with the increased inconvenience of not having a car in order to be a good citizen and save money. But there are definitely times when I hate, hate, HAAAAATE taking the bus. And as I think about it, I realize that 90% of that is because of the other idiots who take public transit as well. And I'm not even talking about people like the ladies I overheard last year talking about how they refused to take the #2 bus anymore because of all the, and I quote, "coloured people" who ride that route nowadays (the girl sitting next to me and I exchanged the most perfect raised eyebrow "Whaaaaaaa?" look when we heard that), but just your general garden variety urban assholes.

I have long thought these Urban Asshole Notification Cards were inspired, and wished I had the guts to order a pack or two and use them. But I think we need to make up ones specifically for users of public transit. Violations would include:

1) Getting on an empty bus with only one other person and sitting down directly beside that other person. Sure, just like sitting next to the only other person in a movie theatre, there is nothing specifically rude or wrong about sitting where you want to sit, but why bypass all the other empty seats in order to be in someone else's personal space?

1b) Taking up more than your allotted space when you do sit next to someone. Now, I'm a big girl, I realize this, but when I am sharing a seat on the bus with someone I make every effort to make myself as small as possible and not intrude on my seatmate. And that includes making sure my purse and any other bags stay on my side of the dividing line. Men who sit with their legs spread and slouched down in their seats? That doesn't make your penis any bigger, sorry.

2) Conversely, the bus is packed and people are standing in the aisles, and yet somehow your backpack still needs its own seat. There better be an original of the Magna Carta in that backpack, because otherwise I'm not understanding what, exactly, is so special about it. Move it, asshole, and let someone sit down.

3) Getting on the bus and standing in the aisle directly behind the driver, instead of moving further back. Forcing everyone who wants to get on or off the bus to squeeze past you.

4) Wearing a backpack while standing in the aisle ... you are guaranteed to be smacking someone who is seated in the head with that backpack every time you move.

5) Waiting until you are on the bus to start looking for your pass/fare. You have been standing at the bus stop for ten minutes, putz. Why do you now need to hold up a line of people waiting to get on the bus while you fumble through every last pocket (and they are invariably wearing cargo pants with eleventy billion pockets)? Minus an extra ten points if you do this on a rainy day, making everyone else behind you wait in the rain.

6) Carrying on a loud conversation, either with a companion or on your cell phone. Nobody cares, nobody wants to hear it. Keep your voice down.

7) Testing all the different ring tones on your cell phone. Yes, faithful readers, I have seen this more than once. Sure, it's something to do to occupy yourself on a long bus ride. Too bad you're going to burn in hell.

8) Plopping down in one of the priority seats at the front of the bus, pulling out a book and studiously ignoring the elderly, disabled or pregnant riders who get on after you. You're able bodied and healthy -- be thankful for that and let someone who needs it have the seat.

9) Carrying on a lengthy conversation with the driver about anything other than the route or what stop you need. He or she is doing a very difficult job, and has the lives of many other people in his or her hands. No one cares what movie you saw last night or your thoughts on the current political climate in Ontario. Let the driver do his or her job without distraction or irritation.

In short, sit in your seat, keep quiet, don't intrude on other people and be courteous to those around you. You wouldn't really think it would be that hard, eh?

Tune in next week when we continue our lessons in how not to be an urban asshole, with sessions on elevator ettiquette and "Sidewalks: For walking, not gawking ... or biking."

Blergh

Things I will not miss about living in a highrise, part 1:

3 a.m. fire alarms. In the rain.

Something's cooking

So after my two long and apparently tear jerking posts last week, let's lighten things up a little bit. I've posted two recipes I've tried recently ... I admit to not being that great, or adventurous, a cook, but being with Serdic (who is a FABULOUS cook ... girls, you should be extremely jealous of the catch I have made, and not only because he knows his way around a kitchen) has forced me to step things up a bit and try to bring my "A-game" on a more regular basis. My personal trainer turned me on to a website called Spark People, which is a great resource for health and fitness, and I have been checking out some of their recipes. What follows is two of my new favourites, both of which I highly recommend ... you can eat healthily without sacrificing flavour. I have to keep telling myself this. *eye roll*

In other news, we officially signed the lease on the new apartment this weekend. We move in three weeks. Eeek.

Baked Honey Mustard Chicken

I made this recipe for the first time last week and we agreed that we both loved it. The chicken turns out really moist and juicy, and the sauce is great over rice. I used dijon mustard and thought it was a bit too tangy ... I would try using something a little softer next time, but all in all two thumbs up. It was crazy easy to put together.

Ingredients
1 1/4 lb. boneless skinless chicken breast
1/2 c. honey
1/2 c. yellow mustard (or dijon for a different flavor)
1 tsp. dried basil
1 tsp. paprika
1/2 tsp. dried parsley

Directions
Preheat oven to 350 F.Place chicken in a lightly greased 9x13inch baking dish.In a small bowl, combine the honey, mustard, basil, paprika, and parsley. Mix well. Pour 1/2 of this mixture over the chicken, and brush to cover.Bake in the preheated oven for 30 min. Turn chicken pieces over and brush with the remaining 1/2 of the honey mustard mixture. Bake for an additional 10 to 15 min, or until chicken is no longer pink and juices run clear. Let cool 10 min before serving.

Curried Mango Pork Chops

I've made this recipe several times now, and we both love it. I put the mango and coconut in the pan to heat them through with the other toppings, which I think helps the flavours blend a little better. It's a pretty easy recipe and goes really well with rice and some kind of green vegetable.

Ingredients
4 boneless pork chops, 3/4-inch thick
2 teaspoons curry powder
1/4 teaspoon seasoned salt
2 teaspoons vegetable oil
4 sliced green onions
1/4 cup raisins
1/3 cup chicken broth
1 teaspoon cornstarch
1 fresh mango, peeled, seeded and diced
2 tablespoons flaked coconut

Directions
Season chops with curry powder and seasoned salt. Heat oil in large skillet over medium-high heat. Brown chops on both sides, turning once, for a total of 7-8 minutes. Remove chops from pan, reserve. In small bowl stir cornstarch well into chicken broth. Add onions, raisins, and chicken broth mixture into skillet; cook and stir until slightly thickened. Return chops to pan; heat through. Serve chops garnished with mango and coconut. Makes 4 servings (3 oz cooked pork per serving.)

Recipe courtesy of National Pork Board

Happy Birthday, Grandad

Yes, this will make two very long and rambling posts back to back this week. Hopefully you'll bear with me. Obviously I'm feeling a bit introspective these days.

I've been thinking about my Grandad a lot lately, as it would have been both his 78th birthday and his and my grandmother's 56th anniversary this week. We lost him to cancer on December 28th, 2005, a date that I think will always stand out as a turning point in my life. Up until his death I had never had to deal with loss, had never really truly mourned. Sure, I had been to funerals, I had dealt with the loss of family pets, but this was the first time I had really had to come to terms, as an adult with the full understanding of what it meant, with the loss of a beloved family member. I realize how lucky that makes me, that I would be within sight of my 30th birthday with all four grandparents alive and well and active forces in my life. But it also made the moment all that more shattering when it came.

My Grandad was much more to me than a kindly old man I visited on school holidays or a shadowy figure who sent annual birthday presents, the way I hear some of my friends describe their grandparents. He was very present in my life, an inspiration, a source of laughter and comfort, in every way that matters a hero to me, and to all who knew him. He was a minister in the United Church of Canada and his quiet, unshakable, simple (in the best sense of the word) faith shaped my understanding not only of God but of the world in general. My cousin L said in his portion of the eulogy that Grandad was one of the few people who truly believed that it's not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game, and he demonstrated that to us every day, simply by living as faithfully and as well as he could. His loss has left a huge hole in our lives and our family, one that will never really be filled. I think of him, and miss him, every single day.

What follows is a portion of my eulogy from his funeral ... I don't think I could say it any better than I did that day to honour him.

How do we mourn someone who lived so well and died so loved? Love is the first word that came to mind when I started to think about what I wanted to say today. Love, for me, is what defined Grandad, and certainly love is what I will remember most about him. His family, his God, his Newfoundland home, his St. Lawrence river … his love for all these things and many more just shone out of him and shaped every day of his life. As a grandchild I felt the full force of that unconditional, unending, unlimited love. I will never forget how his face would light up whenever one of us would come into the room – even the last time I saw him. I walked into his hospital room and he turned and smiled at me and said “Good morning, honey.” His relationship with his grandchildren was most decidedly a mutual admiration society.

He had a store of love that just expanded exponentially to encompass every new thing and person who crossed his path. I always knew how much he loved me and how much his family adored him, but what has really struck me in the last few days is how much every person who ever met him treasured him. The messages that have poured in from people who knew him 40, 50, 60 years ago have humbled and awed me. My Grandad, the man who once dropped his pants in the middle of Christmas dinner to show us his new Christmas boxer shorts, is the same man who inspired such love and respect from all these people? Not that I didn’t believe him worthy of such accolades, but my focus tended to be more narrow, more concerned with what he meant to me personally. To realize he meant so much to so many people has made me prouder than ever to call myself his granddaughter, and I know it is something I will carry with me all my life.

There are no words I can think of that will do justice to all he was and all he meant, and continues to mean, to me. His humour, his smile, his faith, his stories, and above all his unceasing, boundless, overwhelming love. All these things I will carry with me, and all these things will give me strength and comfort in the days to come and for the rest of my life.

A card I was given recently puts it best, I think. “A remarkable man is gone now, and this world seems a little lessened somehow because he is not a part of it. A little less wise and great, a little less good and brave.”

In good company

I first became seriously involved with the "online world" sometime in the summer or fall of 1995. I don't remember the exact details of the timeline, but I spent the school year of 1994-1995 in Denmark on an exchange, and when I returned my parents had just set up a connection (dial up! ugh!) and were starting to explore what was out there. I knew about email and the internet before that, of course, but this was my first real exposure to what was available. So I sat down at the computer one sunny afternoon in late 1995 and typed "Andrew Lloyd Webber" into a search engine (I was, and remain, a huge musical theatre geek, and his name was the first thing that came to mind). I stumbled across a discussion forum devoted to his works, which led me to a discussion forum about theatre in general, both of which were populated by many of the same posters.

And a new world dawned.

Hard as it may be for you to believe, I did not fit in in high school (shocking, I know). Bullied, brainy, unattractive (or so I thought at the time), more interested in books and plays than boy bands or makeup, growing up in a small town where I had been labelled many years before as "not one of the cool kids" (and you know how labels stick in a small town), I had a lot of trouble finding my place. Denmark helped, big time, by letting me start over in a way, with people who didn't know me from before and who, gasp, seemed to like me just fine. I grew a lot that year. Coming back to the same small town and the same people from before was backsliding in a lot of ways. And then I found people online who were just like me. People who loved to debate the minute details of musical theatre, who had read all the same books, who didn't care about New Kids on the Block, who, like me, were struggling to find their place, who didn't fit in in their small towns or schools. I never knew there were so many people like me out there.

I formed some friendships in those early days that lasted the better part of ten years (although I am no longer in touch with anyone from those days, as we grew apart and lost touch, I still read one of the forums daily, and it is still going strong although, of course, many of the posters have changed). I had trips to New York City and Toronto, and other places, to see shows, I met some of my favourite actors and performers, I spent hours in chat rooms and on email, trading stories and song lyrics and planning our next get together. I was well liked, I fit in, I was part of a community of friends in a way I had never really been before. I had found "my people."

After I finished university I struggled again to find my place. I had my shiny new BA in English, but I didn't know what I wanted to be now that I was grown up. I was waitressing (not a total loss, in retrospect, as that was where I met Serdic for the first time ... boy, life is funny), half heartedly applying for jobs that sounded interesting, but with no real idea of what direction I wanted to take. Somehow I discovered the actor Colin Firth, developed a massive (although harmless!) crush on him, and got involved with a couple of online communities devoted to discussing him and his work. I even ended up moderating one group for awhile, and devoting a lot of work to keeping it going day to day. It gave me something to focus on, a bright spot in what was at that point a fairly dreary existence (yes, I do realize in the grand scheme of things I had it pretty good, but it's not a period of my life I look back on with great fondness), and there was a lot of laughter and excitement. Again, it led to field trips to meet other members of the list, and even a brief, although thrilling, sighting of the man himself in Toronto one year at the film festival. Things I never would have done or experienced on my own, made possible by these people I would never have met if it weren't for the interwebs.

I went back to school to do my masters, and eventually got too busy to moderate the list anymore, although I still remain a (mostly lurking) member of another list. But one friendship I developed out of those days still survives, and Cupcake remains one of my dearest friends. She talked me through a lot of hard times, a lot of self doubt and questioning, but also has been there in the happy times, always one of the first to send her best wishes and love and I know she's always cheering me on. Someone I've never "met," never even talked to on the phone. And yet she means the world to me.

I'm going to skip over the online long distance relationship that dragged on for two years, because, really, who wants to rehash that? ;-) I will say, however, that that relationship did a lot to prepare me for the relationship I have now, as I learned a lot about myself and what I do and don't want, and what I am and am not willing to compromise on/put up with. Would I have been ready for Serdic and what we're building together if I hadn't had that experience? Probably not. All things happen for a reason, right?

Currently I spend most of my online time with my group of about 30 friends who came together through, of all things, a message board dedicated to The Bachelor (ah, yes, my guilty pleasure reality tv secret is exposed). Within that board there was a thread where we were allowed to blather on about off topic things, and a core group of us developed a friendship. When that board was closed we moved, eventually, to our own private board, and the privacy of the new board (password protected, by invitation only, etc.) allowed us the freedom to talk a lot more openly about our lives. We're all over North America, but every couple of months two or more people from the board meet up for one reason or another ... although I have not met everyone on the board (I've met more than half of them) everyone on the board has met someone else on the board, which really strengthens our sense of community. I check in daily for the hilarity and gossip, but more than that they are usually the first people I turn to for advice, for comfort, to share good news or just a silly story about something that happened at work. We have done virtual baby showers for each other, and when my grandfather died I was showered with cards and gifts from them. We have gone through weddings, break ups, births, deaths, financial struggles, good fortune, and all of the ups and downs of life together. I cannot say enough about the support and love this group has shown me over the past few years, and how they have helped me find my place as a well adjusted, happy, productive member of society.

All this to say that I sat at my desk yesterday and cried tears of joy and thanksgiving for someone I have never met. Someone I do not know very well, but who I know is vitally important to Serdic (which makes her vitally important to me), and who has provided him with a lot of the things my online friends have given me (as detailed ad nauseum in the preceeding paragraphs!). Kiy and her husband have just, after years of waiting, been matched with a little girl, and they will soon be off to China to bring their new daughter home. It still blows my mind sometimes that the internet allows me to meet people all over the world, people I would never have been able to connect with otherwise, and share in their lives, their joys and their sorrows, and have them share in mine. For a girl who grew up believing she was weird, believing she would never really quite fit in, the realization that there are so many people out there "just like" me was a staggering one.

What a world.