Riding the buses - A field guide on how NOT to be that asshole.

There are ways to ride the buses that leaves everyone with no impression of you whatsoever and there are ways to ride the buses so that people know you are an asshole. 

Don't let people know for sure that you are an asshole. Here's how in six easy points.

1. Don't be that asshole who takes his golf clubs on the bus. Because that's just stupid. You want to be the guy who is standing next to the homeless man while you're holding your golf clubs? You want people to push past you and your golf clubs in the aisle? You want people to mutter 'asshole' under their breath? Then sure, take your clubs for a ride on the number 5. 

2. Don't be that asshole who takes up two seats because you are reading the paper. Or because you need to rest your sixteen-year-old feet. Or because your bag needs a lie down. Or because you just feel like it. And in related asshole-ness, don't sit in the aisle seat so that someone has to push past you to sit in the window seat. 

3. Don't be that asshole who gropes women. It's not legal and it's certainly uncool. Also, if you get punched in the balls or your eyes gouged out, no one is going to help you. They'll just call you an asshole. 

4. Don't be that asshole who does stupid stuff. Like using the rails to work on your chin-ups. We're not an audience. We're just trying to get places. 

5. Don't be that young asshole who sits while older people stand. One day you'll be old and you'll have to stand on your rickety arthritic hips while some fourteen-year-old asshole sits in a seat. Don't tempt karma. 

6. So you're an asshole who likes listening to Bon Jovi really, really loudly? Good on you. And you are welcome to do just that. In the privacy of your own home. Don't inflict your music on other people. And see your doctor for a hearing test. I know you need one. 

There's no easy way to sum this up. Let's see... Did I cover everything y'all need to know? 

Don't be an asshole. 

Check.

We're done here. 

How's it going?

I know now that I was quite naive coming to America. I thought that it would be just the same as home, just, you know, more like on the telly. Maybe a little swearier and with a touch more god.

But the crazies in this city seem a little crazier. The people more beautiful, definitely skinnier, probably richer. The diamonds are bigger, the politics more extreme.

Shopping is both cheaper and more expensive. Sitting in this park, I can see the mansion that belongs to Danielle Steele. It takes up a whole city block and has its own carriage entrance. There are houses in the paper for sale for $45 million dollars.

Dog walkers fill the parks. Nannies fill the parks. Women in yoga pants fill Marc Jacobs, Ralph Lauren, small and tasteful boutiques.

Children are treated as little adults, tiny little employers, special snowflakes who can be forgiven anything and who should be given everything. They are on a tight leash; no further away from an adult than a few metres. Strangers are confused when Remy talks to them; kids don't speak to strangers here. The strangers have all been so kind to him, playing along with his superhero games, being good sports when he shoots them.

The food is confusing. The variety of products is astounding. The amount of corn syrup unimaginable and almost impossible to avoid.

People stand for others on the buses. It's more than good manners; there is a strong feeling of community and looking after each other here. Except when they don't, because sometimes they won't. There are signs around the parks telling us all not to befriend the animals because it makes them more aggressive. The animals they are talking about are coyotes. Seriously, coyotes. It's like being in a foreign country sometimes.

While I was out.

I've moved to San Francisco.

Yes, yes I have. Remy is here too of course, and Rees.

It's awesome here. Obviously. It's San Francisco. How could it be anything else?

Whew! We got this bad boy up just in time for Christmas.

Oh noes. I'm treating this place like it's Facebook.

Here you go folks - 10 updates that very nearly went on Facebook until I reminded myself that going from 104 'friends' to 103 almost killed me and that if I continue spamming people with my life then they will leeeeeeaaaaaave meeeeeeeeee:

10: I regret telling Remy about Santa. Suddenly I realise that Santa gets the credit for the stuff I buy. Eff off Santa - if you want the credit, you buy the bloody presents.

9. I have a new favourite song and when I have a new favourite song I listen to it 73 hundred million times in a row. It's so I can get all the goodness out of it. Boyfriend on the other hand has a new least-favourite-ever-in-his-life song that he has listened to 73 hundred million times...

8. Remy's current career-of-choice - Giraffe. One that eats people.

7. Coming in at close second is stuntman. It's not clear yet if he will be a stuntman who also eats people.

6. Do not follow this link unless you are happy to lose hours (and hours and hours) of your life. And definitely do not look at this one. I warned you.

5.When I was little and had trouble going to sleep my mother would say "Don't worry, we're not going to have fun without you". Now that I am a parent myself, I'd like to point out that my mother is a LIAR.

4. Sewing win! I made a car seat cover. And I only swore ... well, I only swore all the time but maybe if I'd been trying harder not to swear I wouldn't have had the energy to finish the car seat cover?

3. Uh oh... I can feel a NEW FAVOURITE SONG coming on... are you ready boyfriend? Boyfriend? Hello?

2. I was at the dentist and had Remy there with me. Remy asked the dentist if he had to go to school for a long time to become a dentist. His answer? "Not as long as a vet". Comforting.

1. Me: I love you.
Remy: Yeah. Look at this booger.


PS Would you like to listen to an awesome song? Here, try this:

Sometimes

some nights are like this
nights when a girl is reading a funny blog
when she remembers
all of a sudden
that it wasn't very long ago
that she was pregnant
with a much loved and longed-for baby
and the baby died
and no matter what she wishes for
her baby is gone.

It was a godamned cockroach!

There are things that I am neither physiologically nor psychologically equipped for. This (extensive) list includes:

10. Joining the army. For a start, I hear that yelling back at those blokes who get all up in your business is a no no.

9. Attending events where no alcohol is served.

8. Modelling.

7. Farming.

6. Pest Control.

5. The Olympics. But I swear to god the minute I find a sport that requires absolutely no effort, skill or talent, I'm in there.

4. Optimism.

3. Having the volume on the telly set to an uneven number. What? Of course this is normal. Well, within the bounds of normal. At least I'm not as bad as the flatmate I once had who could only watch the channels that were on prime numbers.

2. Poker face.

1. Finding a cockroach in the iron. See photo for revolting evidence of what happened at my house today: