(This is a bit rant-y. You’ve been warned. I do love my family, even if some family members drive me batty on occasion. Besides, the really rant-y bits aren’t about them.)

My workday, for a change, was positively blissful (if you discount having spent nearly the whole day dealing with Windows Vista). My visit with the kids, minus some shrieking commentary from their two-year-old half-brother, went moderately well. And then, at the end, my phone rings:

“Hello?”

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Karel.”

“Oh, hi son! Hey, we’re just wondering, do you know where Chrissie went?”

[stunned moment of silence] “I think she’s in Virginia, Mom.”

“Virginia?”

“Er, yeah. You know, she went into the Navy a few years back?”

“Ah, Virginia. Well, I just wanted to call to say I love you, son.”

“Um, love you too, Mom. Take care.”

The entire call lasted all of two minutes, tops, which means it went by too fast for my brain to really grasp all of the implications. (As I’ve said often enough, I’m the world’s slowest thinker. I’m not stupid, just a bit ponderous. I get there eventually… most of the time.) Let’s cover the basics:

• Sis went into the Navy quite a few years ago, now.
• Thus, Sis has been living on the East Coast for quite some time.
• Sis brought her daughter out to Oregon last summer for Granddad’s memorial service, an event attended by damned near all of the surviving family members, including Mom.
• She hasn’t changed her city of residence in the last couple of years.
• Therefore, Mom should know full well exactly where Sis lives.

So let this be a lesson to you all: DON’T DO DRUGS. They KILL BRAIN CELLS.

On a related note, this means that both of my most recent communications with my individual parents has included my sister’s most-hated nickname, “Chrissie.” No, in fact I don’t wonder why she doesn’t stay in touch.

…

On the bus ride home I was treated to several displays of stunning stupidity. First were the annoying teenaged girls, about which that’s really all I have to say. Then there was the gal who has no business at all being a parent: Her older children (we’re talking maybe seven or eight years old) had the run of the bus, while her daughter of almost-two punctuated her mother’s attempts at intelligent conversation (moron [sic] that in a moment) with piercing shrieks when she didn’t get some bauble or another, or when her big brother would tease her. The best part came when it was almost time for the horde to depart the bus, and the very small child was put into the care of the aforementioned brother… who promptly ignored his sister in favor of running to the back of the bus… leaving the toddler standing (barefoot, I hasten to point out) in the aisleway of a moving bus. At no point did the so-called parent bat an eyelash, even though this happened within arm’s reach. In fact, the toddler walked most of the way off the bus on her own two feet while her mother chivvied the older children and carted the stroller out.

The mind, it boggles. Big time. I’m amazed that nobody got hurt.

Oh, the intelligent conversation? The lady (yes, I’m using the term very very loosely here) is one of those loudmouthed know-nothings who are absolutely certain of facts gleaned entirely from, I suspect, Internet chain-letters and drunken conspiracy theorists down at the local bar. If I hadn’t wanted to wring her neck on account of shoddy parenting, I’d have wanted to just to shut her the hell up.

So, she gets off the bus. Yay. Apparently that was the cue for the next driveling idiot to start in. Yes, the highlight of rest of my ride home was a conversation between a vacuum-headed bible-thumping crusader for the rights of the homeless and a geriatric crazy sporting just the right balance between a rich fantasy life and an imperfect grasp on his own past history. (Allow me to note that I have nothing against Christians on general principle, but stupid loudmouthed bible-thumpers are among the most annoying of “God’s creatures.”)

I couldn’t get off that bus fast enough, I tell you. I’m intensely glad that, at the moment, there’s nobody talking anywhere near me. And now I’m going to go to bed and hope that tomorrow will feature a much higher intelligence-to-stupidity ratio…