"a little somethin-somethin"

It seriously made my day when I heard a middle-aged white weatherman say that once on TV.

Wow, this blog has been sooo slooow lately. I'm sorry about that- things have been crazy around here- but I'll remind you that I'm only responsible for 50% of the contributions on this blog.
So, instead of musing philosophically on recent events (like death) I'm going to reminisce a little.

Recent weather conditions have forced me to remember things from childhood I'd rather forget. That's right, I'm talking about the beloved school bus. Being a student who can't afford her driver's license, I'm stuck riding the bus to and from school everyday. While being the oldest one on board does have its advantages (such as dominating the coveted back of the bus), I've also been forced to experience the worst smell known to man: wet bus. People complain about wet dogs, but I can assure you that there is no nastier stench than that of dozens of sticky and damp elementary school kids crammed into a small area and breathing on each other. With all the rain we've had lately, it's been overpowering.

We've also been experiencing some interesting substitute drivers lately. I think school bus drivers are a truly unique race of people, and I'm never quite sure where they come from. The first one I can remember would drawl into the loudspeaker "Thar's ma babiees!" when we drove past her field of decrepit horses every day. The next one was awesome- we could do whatever we want, and once we paid her to run over traffic cones on the highway. Unfortunately, she got kicked off the route for one too many DUI's.
The next driver was a silent, bald man who I remember always had candy and assorted food stuck to his head that the kids had thrown around. For the last few years I've had a driver named Tammy, who acted all tough and mean but was really sweet and cared about her kids. She used to tell me stories of her weekends at the casinos and her wedding in Las Vegas. However, she retired last year and now we have substitutes, my favorite one being "Heart-Attack Jack," so named for his age, body type, and the rumor that he had a heart attack a week before driving our bus. Our dear friend HAJ didn't last long, but he loved to regale us with stories of how his pastor paints the back of his head like a pumpkin for Halloween each year.
I'm not even going to get started for now on the kinds of kids that ride the bus, but I'm sure more interesting stories will come out of my ridiculously long bus rides this year. Stay tuned.