As promised in my last blog, here are the lessons I've learned- all from the B's.

Bigotry- Still alive and well in June, 2006. It's disturbing to me that people still hate each other because they have more melanin in their skin. While I was in visiting relatives, they mentioned that a black couple had moved in down the street. I knew instantly that no good would come of this story. Just think about it. Why is that something that warrants a mention?? In my ideal world, that should be such a non-event that nobody even brings it up. Sure enough, the neighborhood set about finding a confederate flag so that the old, white guy across the street from them could hang it on his flag pole. Niiiiiice. I'm willing to lay down ten bucks that says they were afraid the black people would lower their property value. Somehow, I don't think they thought about how much lower it went with a confederate flag hanging out there. And one of the people who thought it was a riot has a grandbaby that is half-black. It makes me physically ill that my kids will know bigoted assholes like this. These kind of people were supposed to drink themselves to death on homemade moonshine a long time ago.

Blasphemy- Ok, not blasphemy exactly. My mom asked if my kids could go to Vacation Bible School. I knew this wasn't going to turn out well either. When my husband was growing up, he was invited to Vacation Bible School by a friend. They piled in a van or a bus, in the middle of summer, in the same warm, backwards Southern state from the story above. There were too many people on that bus, and it was literally standing room only. When they got there, they were led to the balcony area of the church where they were sat down and told how they are all going to hell. Now, sure, most Christians believe exactly that. But I think most also realize that they will not see church attendance rise by sitting small children in a seat and describing such vicious tortures that if it were made into a movie, they would never let their kids watch it. Hell, the way he sounded, Rob Zombie himself might utter, "Dude, that's sick." I have even been in a church van when we basically kidnapped a boy to take him to church. He was not allowed to go home and tell his parents where he was going, and the others I was with literally grabbed his arm, seeming like they were joking but without really doing so, and dragged him in. It's about that time I decided that church might not be where I belong.

When I told my husband that she wanted to take them, he was practically glowing with anger. So when she asked again, "Can they go to VBS?" I answered no. She looked stunned. She sort of stammered out, "Why not?" I told her, and then I added, "His experience was with some people that give people a reason to hate Christians." Now, of course, she waited until he left the table to ask me. She thought I would cave, or at least play the same game I've played for years where I come up with an extremely lame excuse. Not anymore. When he got back to the table, she said, "Well I didn't know you hated Christians." Nice try, but not what I said. And I told her as much. Then I explained that there are people in the world masquerading as Christians who ARE giving them a bad name. She said the same is true of non-believers. To which I should have replied, "Yeah, but that's beyond the scope of this discussion." Frankly, she may think I'm a non-believer, but that would be a mistaken assumption on her part, and God has a little something to say about judging. Besides, I am not trying to recruit her or anyone else for a "Non-Believers Vacation Babble School" where we sit around and rant about how we don't believe. In short, I am not one to tiptoe around anything. I will say whatever is on my mind. So why am I politely refusing to acknowledge my own feelings just to make her more comfortable? Especially when she already knows my feelings, but thinks she can at least force me into an awkward explanation so that she can witness to me.

Bad Drivers- On the way back from our trip, we were cut off almost as soon as we got on the road. No, actually, being "cut-off" is too generous a word. It was more like "fuck you, I'm coming over into your lane!" So I got a little steamed, thought about how old people in big cars should have their licenses revoked just in case, and forgot about it. At least until three hours down the road. That's when the same car did it again, only more viciously this time. I am not your typical cell phone user, and I have no idea how to call highway patrol. Otherwise, the message would have gone like this..."There's a car on I-35 that cut me off twice now. I don't know if they are drunk or what, but their license plate number is Minnesota tag, TCR 037, and they are being a menace."
But, since I didn't know the number, I did my own brand of passive-aggressive vigilante justice. I picked up a receipt, and I wrote on it with a big marker that happened to be in my car, "Minnesota Tag TCR 037 is a BAD driver!" Then I tucked it into the window so that everyone along the highway for about 4 states could see what a bad driver TCR 037 is. And I vowed to blog about it. Kiss my butt TCR 037!

Baccalaureate- My mom graduated college this weekend. I can be a traditional girl, and with that viewpoint, I still think it's a rarity to see your mother graduate. They are supposed to watch you- not the other way around. My camcorder battery was dying, my camera has no zoom, and every third person is tripping over the camcorder tripod. Right when she is about to go across the stage, I think I'm so clever, and I step into the aisle so it's totally blocked. My husband did the same from his side. And right at that time, a woman comes walking along, assesses the situation, and decides that she should walk behind me. Ya know, cause the tripod is going to jump out of the way or something. So, as my mother goes across the stage, this woman walks behind me, bumping me so I can't even get a crappy shot from my camera, blocks the camcorder with her big head, and then I'm sure bumped it just because she is that big a freakin' moron. Ok, A) The nachos aren't going anywhere, you could have let me get that shot and then gotten your grub on. B) My mom is too old to bother with a Masters or PhD, so that was it, you fat cow. C) I hope to God that somebody ruined your shot when your loved one was walking across that stage. Or better yet, they come back and tell them that they have done some academic dishonesty and their entire transcript is null and void.

Is there no decency left? Or better yet, forget decency. I'd rather just be able to have a normal interaction with someone I've never met where they don't act like a complete ass. Think about it. When's the last time you ever met a friendly stranger? Everyone cuts you off on the road, or they play their music too loud. Nobody on the elevator pushes buttons for you, unless they are a bratty kid that has pushed ALL the buttons for you. No, instead, they leave behind their stale farts so you have to suffer through it. Clerks open one aisle, even though there are two of them working it, and then give you these sorry, "Not my problem" looks when the moose in front of you, who cut you off to get in line, has to climb outta their Hoveround shopping cart to get the ice cream they couldn't bother to get the first time around.

Oh yes, boys and girls. Best stay away. IntricateGirl is putting on her Righteous Indignation and is ready to take all you suckers down. Beware her holy bitterness.