This and that from here and there

This from here: We seem to be having internet connection issues. Sometimes I'm online, and then all of a sudden I'm not. Sometimes it's the ISP. Sometimes it's the wireless router, maybe. Sometimes it's the ether gods who hate me. Or something. I don't understand how or why.

That from there: I was there, as in New York City. Shall I tell you about that visit? I mentioned it briefly a few days ago. It was a week ago today that I went to New York. I took a bus. There are quite a few shuttle bus services that run between New York and D.C. Some of them stop in Baltimore. I was in Baltimore, and took a shuttle to New York. The trip was nice. On Sunday morning the bus wasn't too crowded, and neither was the highway. At about 12:30 in the afternoon I got to New York, 7th Ave. at 33rd Street, IIRC, just outside Penn Station. Patrick, my beloved blog buddy, met me there. I recognized him immediately when I saw him through the bus window. He seemed to recognize me immediately when I stepped off the bus. He gives really good hugs. He hugs with full commitment, if you know what I mean. So do I.

He asked me what I wanted to do in New York, what I wanted to see. I told him I wanted a drink of water, as I was parched. And that I came to see him. Anything else is icing on the cake, or something. So we decided, after getting some water, to go to his apartment first and decide what else to do from there. What we did once we got to his place was talk. And talk. And talk. Until about 9:00 when it occurred to him that we hadn't eaten. I hadn't noticed. So he ordered Chinese take out. He says that's a quintessential New York experience. What impressed me was that the delivery person (he? she? I didn't see) delivered to the door, up 5 flights of stairs.

Another thing that impressed me was that I walked up 5 flights of stairs. OK, not really. I really did climb 5 flights of stairs, but I wasn't that impressed. I was slow, though. Patrick has said on his blog that he lives on the 5th floor, so I knew what to expect. For me, the thing is that Patrick is well worth the climb. I should get in shape, though.

So we ate Chinese food. It was good. He offered me a menu so that I could choose what I wanted. Eh. I wanted to talk to him, to visit, to get to know him better. I didn't care about food. When I was with Indigo in Baltimore I felt much the same way. The whole trip, really, I wasn't about food. I was all about relationships. I had no preference or desire for food. This is new for me, as is obvious from my physique. Usually I eat too much. I was too busy feeding my soul to feed my body. I should do that more often. It's good for me in a number of ways.

Back to Patrick's place. We ate, we talked and talked some more. He had an online appointment with a west coast friend late in the evening, so I showered and got ready for bed. We talked a little bit more, then went to bed. It was fun sleeping there at the front of the apartment. The windows look down on the street, and the neighbors were out visiting on the sidewalk until quite late. Patrick worried that it would be too noisy for me, but it wasn't. I enjoyed the background chatter as I fell asleep. And I slept well, except for a strange dream I had very early in the morning about my youngest children behaving so badly that it ruined my friendships. The dream woke me up, but I was able to get back to sleep and got over that dreadful emotion the dream inspired.

Patrick fixed some wonderful scrambled eggs for breakfast. And coffee. I like coffee. This is Patrick's coffee pot. I'm in love with it.

And there is the cheese he grated over the eggs. It was a delicious breakfast. We talked over breakfast. We talked after breakfast. He showed me how to make the friendship bracelets he loves to make. I stitched up a little bean bag critter I was making for Indigo/Willow. And we talked. At one point we discussed possibly wandering through Central Park so I could see something besides the subway and Patrick's apartment, but we ended up just talking. We talked until it was time to go catch the bus back to Baltimore. This is what Patrick looks like when he's writing what you read on his blog. Studious, isn't he?

An active listener, comfortable, humble and lovable, deep, smart, insightful, wiry, witty, wise beyond his years: Patrick. I am honored to call him my friend.

What's happening on the bus

As most of you know I drive a special needs school bus. There are two students in wheelchairs on my roster, and about half a dozen other kids with varying degrees of learning disabilities and behavior problems. Most of the special needs buses in our district have another adult on the bus to assist with the students. They are called bus monitors.

No, not that kind of monitor!

For most of the school year last year I had an elderly gentleman as my bus monitor. He and I got along just fine when it was just the two of us on the bus. I did not like the way he dealt with the children, though, and he would get into a screaming match with me in front of the students if I suggested to him that he should ease up on the kids. He was ridiculously strict. He was a grumpy old man. He left the bus toward the end of the year, sometime in April I think. Things went so much better after he left. I began to enjoy my job once I was on the bus alone (well, me and the students, of course)



The boss has been making some noises recently about placing another monitor on my bus. He and I have discussed it a few times over the past two years. He knows my preference, but he also knows I am flexible. A couple of weeks ago he brought it up again, and I told him I was fine without a monitor, but if he wanted or needed to assign a monitor, then that's OK, too.



So he did. Last week I got a new monitor. He's a fella just a couple years older than me, who loves kids and has a very friendly disposition. He was driving a bus, but had some health issues come up in December and can't drive for a while. The boss wanted to give him some work, so I have a new monitor. I thought about mentioning it on here last week, but just didn't want to yet.



He is much nicer to work with than the old grump. He's pleasant. He likes to work and has been sweeping the bus out regularly, which is nice (and something I don't do as often as I should).



But frankly I'd rather be alone. This guy talks too much. And just today he was telling me about Valentimes Day and the heat that escapes from a chimbly. Ugh. I can be kind of a snob when it comes to English usage, and I try to be patient and not get upset. This guy is sitting in the seat right behind me chattering away about all manner of things. Using poor grammar and usage and pronunciation. And he misuses the word "which." Which if he says it once more, a small part of my brain will begin to deteriorate. Which he was telling me about some car problems he's having. Which which which. Which Witch? At least he doesn't have any speech impediments, like just about every kid on the bus does.

Last Friday I casually mentioned that I had a few friends that I've meet online, and it came up in the conversation that many (most) of you are gay. I didn't purposely bring it up, and I forget now what the context was. But I was thinking it might be time to spring the "gay thing" on him. He took it pretty well. He's a good ol' boy, likes to hunt, and races cars on a dirt track. I wasn't sure how he would react to the information that I am involved with homosexuals and gay rights and all.

Today it came up in the conversation that there are two young gay men living in our house. We were able to have a reasonable discussion about that. He admitted he feels uncomfortable around someone he knows is gay, but doesn't have any specific gripes against homosexuality in general. I was able to tell him a few things that the general homophobic community doesn't know, like it isn't a choice, and homosexuals have a lot more similarities than differences with the general population. And that most of the problems gays and lesbians face today are a direct result of homophobia. I feel it was a good conversation. I am satisfied that I've said my peace.

But I still wish I was alone on the bus.