Thursday, September 07, 2006

Ces ménagères si désespérées...

Yesterday I mentioned that I had committed adultery.

Wait, that's not how I worded it. I said I had a bus boyfriend. I'll let you, my dear readers and other hangers on, decide if I was adulterous or not.

Back in the middle nineties I was ever so fortunate to live in Spanish Fork (that's pronounced Fark), Utah. Justin and I were both attending what we called "UV-Ca-Ca" or "High School with ashtrays". AKA Utah Valley Community College, now Utah Valley State College. One of the best ways to get to school at the time was riding public transportation. Our poor butts could share an el cheapo student bus pass and save on parking fees and gas.

I looked forward to my hour and a half bus ride to and from school. It reminded me of riding the bus to elementary school in many ways except it was quieter and there was less booger eating.

It was on my ride home where we passed an industrial area and picked up a group of folks with disabilities. One of these businesses had hired a bunch from the local "school" so they could gain confidence and work experience. Most of these bus riders were down syndrome, but all kinds of mild retardation were represented. This was the best part of my bus ride. Public transportation is dreary and these folks brightened it up considerably.

I became friends with one disabled man. He made it a point to sit by me whenever I was on the bus. We chatted about all kinds of things, like cartoons and Coca Cola. He'd shake my hand repeatedly.

One day, while we were discussing politics, he lay his head on my shoulder and sighed, "You are so nice!"


The next bus ride he lay his head on my shoulder, proclaimed my niceness again...and he held my hand. Awwww!

The next next bus ride he lay his head lower on my shoulder....
...and the next lower
...and lower the point where I physically lifted his head off my boobs with my hands.

He tried it again the next bus ride. I told him not to lay his head on me again. He smirked at me. He smirked and then I knew...

He'd been systematically chatting me up and using his condition to finally cop a feel!

My married ass had been manipulated by a new brand of suave! I let him hold my hand! I was duped.

He sat in the back of the bus after that. Like in poker, once you reveal your hand you can never go back.


Yesterday I found an interesting link on my sitemeter used to find my blog. It's a reminder to how small this world really is...or how far one can reach into it.

My blog has been mentioned in an article in a May issue of the magazine "La Liberte". I had much difficulty reading this article because La Liberte happens to be published in French. I sluffed French in high school. The article is entitled "These So Desperate Housewives." and is about housewives utilizing the internets.

Here, have a linky to the PDF copy .

I've been mentioned with Bored Housewife. Babelfish badly translates:

...moms with the hearth benefitted from the Tupperware meetings, passed the hours to the telephone or attended the charitable organizations to chatter between them.

Today, there is Internet. Ready to leap when baby opens the eye, they tap on their keyboard of the afternoon or the whole evenings. Some feed from the blogs. They post the last photographs of chérubin, but also speak about their states of heart or their day. Vibrating or tedious, it is according to, and sometimes, with an acute direction of the autodérision.

American the LISA publishes very read "boredhousewife": "I remain at the house and I owe my safety with this blog and my rendezvous with the gym", writes it in this connection. This 30 year old mother is able to develop a nap post-indigestion lengthily. What requires a certain talent, let us acknowledge it. Its compatriot of "absentminded housewife", it, can write almost a news on a simple way towards the school...

I'm assuming the writer of this article is referring to one of two posts I wrote in early May. One where I whine about parents with poor driving skills whilst dropping off their children at school...or another where I whine about farting in my fabulous minivan after dropping my kids off to school.

Farting is almost a news.


  1. Does this mean you've gone international? I do believe you're famous!

  2. I don't think I'd say you committed adultery but rather that you were duped. That guy had a real scam going and I'll bet you were not the only one he used it on.

    That French review is kind of hard to read, even when translated into English. I remember your two posts you refer to but that review sure doesn't sound to me like what you said. But as Bo says, you surely are now International!

  3. ... "This 30 year old mother is able to develop a nap post-indigestion lengthily." ... now there's a phrase you don't hear every day - just rolls right off the tongue ... that Babelfish is one smooth, sweet-talkin' Lutjanus apodus ...

    ... C'est agréable pour savoir que vous êtes célèbre en France ... la tête de poisson, avec les jambes attachées ...

  4. Thank you for starting my morning on a good note!

    You are becomming famous, but is this what you really want. lol!

    Have a good week.

  5. Hey Becky, that's awesome you were mentioned in someone's article. Even if printed in another country!! Love the bus story. No question the bus is full of inspiration for writing--Politicians should be forced to ride one bus a week as part of their work...they might learn something about boot-straps and all that.


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