Friday, January 27, 2012

Miss you, metro baby

Alex is having a hard time adjusting to life back in the U.S.  Maybe it's because he's not American.  Maybe it's because his work hours got longer when we returned (something no one thought possible).  Maybe it's because he misses wearing huge scarves and pointy-toed shoes without looking like an idiot. 

Or maybe it's because of the bus.

After the near-flawless (if you don't count all the strikes) Paris metro system, the Seattle bus system isn't measuring up.  Seattle's public transportation is a little less glamorous, a little less polished, a little more flannel-filled than in Paris.  But we don't care about that -- the problem is Alex's bus has an attitude problem.  It may get him to work on time today, but if it doesn't feel like it, it sure as hell isn't getting him to work on time tomorrow --









We swore we'd be a one-car family when we returned.  That resolution may not last long because I'm worried about Alex's mental health and my children's vocabulary.  Even if I'm in the shower (a rare occurrence these days because....I mean, why?) with lots of water hitting my ears, I can still hear a long string of expletives from the other room and know the bus is running late according to the "just how late IS your bus?" bus tracker online tool. 

So I yell from the bathroom, "ALEX, PLEASE WATCH THE LANGUAGE!  THINK OF THE CHILDREN!" and Lucien pops his head around the corner to say, "He can't help it, Mom.  It's that goddamn motherf*ckin' bus again."

(To those who are going to say Alex should get his butt out of the house earlier, I say "back off, kind sir."  Mornings are the only time Al has with the kids; they are not going to let him leave a second earlier than he absolutely has to and that's the way it should be.) 

I've suggested Al buy a new bike since his other bike has gone into deep freeze storage with our Paris stuff until we find a house to buy in this town.  He liked that idea.  Fingers crossed his new bike is always on time. 

But this brings me to another point about Alex.  Unfortunately, whenever Alex is pissed off at something not at all related to me, he seems to think it's related to me and I owe him an explanation and a solution.  He suspects I'm part of a grand universal plan to make him miserable.

"I was late to a meeting yesterday because the bus was late," is said with a slightly accusatory tone that means, "I know you are in control of the bus, woman, you are fooling no one." 

"I can't find my keys," is spoken with an undercurrent of "I know you took my keys." 

"Where is my important work file?" is said with a suspicious look that says "You are attempting to destroy all I've worked for by hiding my important documents." 

To my knowledge, I have never been the true cause of any of these problems (she says as she hides her Seattle Metro transponder and her "where to hide Alex's documents so he will never find them" study guide.)  I don't understand my Al sometimes. 

I also don't understand Coco's reaction when she asks for a piece of cheese.  She adores cheese more than anything in this world.  She follows me into the kitchen laughing her head off with cheese anticipation but when I open the refrigerator, she gets so excited she runs directly away from the refrigerator, away from the cheese, as fast as she can.  Then she usually trips over her own feet and falls in the dining room.  Wouldn't it be easier to just take the piece of cheese from mama at the refrigerator, kid?

Man, I really don't get these people.  Thankfully I'm on the same page as Lucien.  When he insists on eating dinner with his pants off because that's the way dinner should be, I'm like, "YES!  EXACTLY!"

Hey, good news.  One of our Presidential candidates has finally mentioned a pressing issue, one very close to my heart -- establishing moon colonies.  Finally, someone's got his finger on the pulse of the important issues affecting everyday Americans. 

Mama's night out tonight with the ladies.  Don't wait up, Al -- going to be a late one because I'm searching for new and exciting places to hide your stuff,
MJ

27 comments:

  1. First thing I noted after we came back from Paris is how much of a pain in the arse it is to get anywhere. Walk for 15 minutes in Paris and you're in a different quarter filled with charming boulangeries and picturesque balconies and geraniums. Walk for 15 minutes in my suburb (which is all fucking hills so good luck with that) and you've maybe made it to the bus stop, and standing there is about as optimistic as Al's mornings...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sigh. Agreed. There's no transportation like Paris transportation.

      Umm...enjoy your walk to the bus stop? Hugs, Jenn!

      Delete
  2. woohoo...the drawings are back! It had been awhile since we had had the pleasure of your artistic talent, love it!

    I'm glad to hear that along with blogging, caring for two busy kids and moving to a new house every other day, you still have time to hide your husbands belongings, keep up the good work!

    ~Melanie

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The drawings are back and only slightly less crappy than they were before.

      And yes, I'm a very busy woman. If you have any good advice on hiding places, please pass it along. I'm all out of ideas.

      Delete
  3. YAY! CARTOONS! {claps like giddy schoolgirl}

    Oops, sorry... {claps more quietly in case you have a hangover}

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I did have a hangover, though not as bad as they've been in the past. I'm getting downright responsible in my old age.

      Delete
  4. You might be late tonight because the bus won't come!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Waiting for a bus after a night with the ladies sounds like a nightmare. Thankfully, we had a driver. And Yellow Cab on speed dial just in case.

      Delete
  5. Sorry about Al's Metro experiences. Unlike Al, my $#^%!& bus is always right on time. It's *me* that's always late.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Your bus is always right on time? Magic bus! Al is jealous.

      Delete
  6. Cartoons and a tea spit take on the key comment...so so true...we are constantly going around moving their things...nothing else better to do

    Seems to me Al has plenty of time with the kids on your nights out with the girls...just saying!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh come on, Debbie! It doesn't count as time with the kids if they're asleep!

      Now go hide your husband's keys.

      Delete
  7. Omigod! Great post! Cartoons, swearing, pantless dinners, hiding shit. . . love it all!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. There's a lot to like there. Especially the pantless dinners. Try it tonight -- I think you'll really find it brings the family together.

      Delete
  8. You know, Mindy, I think it's a French-Canadian man thing to blame your wife for everything... I could have sworn you were describing my dad in that posting! You sure Al and I are not related? (You know what? I wouldn't be surprised if we were... every one in Quebec seems to be related one way or another... What's Al's last name?;))

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Quebec is indeed an incestuous little place. Alex calls everyone within walking radius his "cousin" so I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if you were related. (Can't give his family's name on the blog, though -- they're undercover here)

      Delete
  9. Metro HAS sucked a lot lately...I can cut them some slack when it's snowing/raining/rush hour, but when the buses are running 15 to 20 minutes behind at 7pm and 9:30pm on a clear night, it's a bit maddening.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Glad you agree. Alex has friends who claim their buses are always on time, and then he feels paranoid. Is he the only one? Is it all in his head?

      Delete
  10. Buy another car.

    See, I can solve the world's problems.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's a fine solution, and would work well if we wanted two cars. But we don't. We will keep looking for alternatives...

      Delete
  11. I <3 the Loosh. That's exactly what my kids would say.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I love when people appreciate the Loosh. I bet I would like your kids, too.

      Delete
  12. In Paris, Al must have had one of the GOOD bus lines. Believe me, they are not all so reliable. My husband Georges takes the 85 from Montmartre to Sorbonne 5 days a week, and at least 60% of the time, halfway through the trip the dispatcher decides that the bus will only go as far as Chatelet or even Bourse (for those who don't know Paris, that's only about 2/3 of the usual route), so everyone HAS to get off and either wait for the next 85 bus or take some other bus to get the rest of the way across town. And then with the manifestations it's hard to plan anything with these buses sometimes. I missed my car so much when I came here because I couldn't for the life of me plan how much time it would take me to get places on public transportation.

    I think that tendency to blame others for one's own problems is inherently (a) male and (b) French. Georges doesn't blame me for the bus but I DO get that accusatory tone from him when he can't find a bill or other important paper at home because of course *I* am supposed to be the keeper and organizer of our entire lives and WTF did he do before I came along, that's what I want to know! He is an amazing guy and the best husband but he is also the most disorganized procrastinator I have ever met.

    Loosh cracks me up. ;)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. First of all,poor Alex. It must suck. Luckily, our Public Transit works pretty well most of the time. But when it doesn't it is an epic fail. Second, Le Looshe KILLS me. I imagine that Coco is just looking all of this, while judging the rest of you. Thirdly, your art is getting better and more creative as the days go on. Finally, it prob really is all your fault. I understand the mothers are to blame for everything.

      Alex needs a Vespa!

      Delete
    2. Bold Soul! See, that's just it -- Alex never took the bus in Paris! It was all metro, all the time, every few minutes here comes another train. Oh, just saying those words makes me tear up a little bit. It was transportation heaven.

      Al thinks I'm the organizer of all things, too, I guess, including things I've never seen or heard of in my entire life. It's too much responsibility for a mama.

      April! Vespa is a great idea. I love a sexy Vespa.

      Coco is definitely judging us all harshly. She sits there, silently, taking it all in, wondering how to escape to another family. What a punk.

      Delete
  13. LOL @ Bec and Marie. Ditto from me! :D

    I suppose everything is going to be a bit give and take. Craisins and lots of craft beers on the one hand, sh*tty transportation on the other. Easier bureaucracy on the one hand, no Eiffel Tower and River Seine on the other.

    I was just reading a blog today from another woman who returned to the US in December from the Paris area (http://lifeenfranglais.blogspot.com/) and she was expressing how much *easier* it was to do things like open bank accounts and get a 10-year green card for her French hubby compared to her experience doing those things in France. There is a lot that is easier in the US.

    Public transportation is NOT one of those things.

    Yeahhhhhhhh, I think a second car is going to be necessary. But I do hope that Alex has much luck with biking! I know it is a better choice in many ways.

    Bon courage, mon chou. :)
    xx
    Karin

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. KARIN! MA COPINE!

      The beers here are scrumptious but the bus sucks. And... beer wins! But only because I never have to take the bus!

      I've been struck time and again by how EASY everything feels here. Everything is geared towards customer experience and convenience and expediency. I love, love, love that part of U.S. living. But sure, we suck BIG at other things...

      Big, BIG hugs, Nanny Karin -- ha ha. Lucien says HI. Coco says nothing, as usual. Bisous!!

      Delete