i know, i know.  i haven't been keeping up with the blog.  life beyond bus riding is busy.  i post when i am thoughtful about my experiences.  and so, this week has me thinking.  thinking about what, you may ask?  well, about social interactions, how people try to communicate, and the ability of people to cope with life's circumstances and taking a chance at something better than what they have.  i sit in my seat as a way to get to and from work.  basically, i want nothing more than that.  there have been people on the bus these past couple of weeks who seem to need more than that from me and themselves.  take brass monkey (previously known as injured guy) who tried to help his friend find out about her bf who was in the aci and who was calling alternate numbers for the aci on his cellphone to help her find some answers and locate the bf.  he also mentioned to those in hearing distance that if we needed adderall, he could get it.  he had taken a pill before boarding the bus, and even though he felt no difference (yet!), he wanted to let us know he could get some.  skip ahead one week, and the codac kid was willing to trade the pills he had for those the brass monkey could get courtesy of the chick who made his morning coffee (for a fee, of course!).  at the same time, brass monkey was complaining that his gf (who he has previously mentioned wanting to marry) was giving him a hard time about giving him the money for bus fare (to where?  codac!  go figure!).  the codac kid empathized with brass monkey ("yeah, bitches can be tough")  they both got off the bus at the same stop and the woman who goes to the methadone clinic each morning never took her eyes off of them as they stood on the side of the road and the 13 left the old spring loop stop.  hmmm... i thought.  what is she thinking?  and then there is germaine who got on in arctic on my way home and sat next to me even though there were MANY available solo seats.  he leaned against me (no curves even!) and asked if i was looking at pics of my kids when i was just checking out who was playing on my pandora playlist.  he said he knew i must be married (HA!), but went on to discuss his prowess with women and how making pancakes with fruit on top was his way of showing his ladies appreciation.  he was on his way to his sister's (he admitted he was not from coventry when i said he musn't be) to take a shower (??) and to watch her kids while he watched a laker's game.  we talked about millionaires.  he thinks all millionaires must be nice because he has seen some on tv.  he even said maybe he was a millionaire.  i said maybe i am!  he did not agree that there are probably no millionaires on the 13.  he complimented me on my outward appearance and told me he hoped my husband treated me well and appreciated me.  he went on to state that if anyone gave me trouble, i could just refer them to germaine; he would set them straight.  his last words to me as i exited the bus?  "god bless you, beautiful lady."  and then tonight, there was the toothless, elderly navy veteran who asked me the color of my coat (after asking me if i worked at the veteran's hospital cause i look like his primary care physician).  when i said pink, he said fuchsia, but liked pink because could i guess what movie he was thinking of that involved molly ringwald and the color pink.  "pretty in pink?", i guessed.  "YEP!  you sure look pretty in pink and i like your leg warmers and your whole outfit", he gushed.  (bert interrupted this interchange to ask, "is that old sailor bothering you, kris?")  he also wanted to know, as he looked at my boots, which sinatra song he was thinking of....  (GUESS!)  i had to exit at that point.  and then there was the make out couple in front of me.  making out and listening to rap music infused with the f and the n words until bert told them they needed headphones to listen on the bus....  right after that a girl got on with her eyes half closed, eating those cheese and crackers we used to bring in our lunch boxes.  she knew the male counter part of the make out couple and introduced herself to the female counterpart of the make out couple.  they both mentioned just having had children in the past year.  they discussed the challenges of having their babies with them (they were proud to say their babies were with them) and being on methadone.  cheeses and crackers admitted to just having gotten high, but her baby was with a sitter.  they all seemed unaware that there were the rest of us on the bus as they chatted about such personal things.  tom moved up next to me and started to make fun of them and i felt uncomfortable.  so i changed the subject ("doing anything exciting this weekend, tom?")  i realized that even as i was silently judging, when tom so loudly judged, we had no right.  who are we to comment on how others make contact, establish relationships, reach out, live a life?  (i was worrying about their kids!  the methadone twins AND germaine's sister's kids...)  who are we to judge someone else's choices?  who are we to judge how someone else copes with shitty circumstances?  if we do, we must be willing to help.  or, at least, to listen and try to understand.  (on the 13, one is often in the unsolicited position of listening)  all of this is on my mind as i prepare a workshop on supporting social emotional development in young children for adults who work with preschoolers....