The Bad Decision Queen

Congressman Anthony Weiner has nothing on me.

I sort of feel for the guy. Yeah, he did something stupid and impulsive. I've done stupid and impulsive things all my life.

Keeping explicit "love notes" from my boyfriend at the home I shared with my husband is one good example. (No, no, not this husband, another one.)

Making out with my Pakistani English Professor three days before I got married was another little judgment lapse. (But I wasn't married yet, and no, not this husband either.)

Getting a boyfriend drunk and taking all of his money when he passed out was probably not the nicest thing I ever did either. All I can say is that it was stupid and impulsive and I was bad. It was nobody's fault that I did bad things except my own.

Inappropriate emails! Oh Good Golly, Miss Molly! I've sent my share. And I've received my share too. I can't claim to have sent photos of my crotch, unless you count the occasional upskirt.

Now on the other side of the coin, I help people who need help. I am good to little kids and old people. And I love my dogs.

Anthony Weiner has been a shining star in his efforts to help the downtrodden and he has done a lot for the people who put him in office. I saw the famous photo of him in his jockey shorts, and honestly, I don't think it was that big a deal. Was it being stupid? Yeah, probably. But give me someone stupid about naughty photos who tries to do the right thing about the important stuff any day of the week. Weiner's career may be over because of this mess, but I hope it isn't.

He's a good guy.

Nigerian Sailors!

My cleaning lady Maria has a daughter.

Marina is 20 years old and a Jennifer Lopez look-alike. She's a shy, charming and lovely person.

Marina works at the Exchange at Coast Guard Island in Alameda. We saw her last weekend and she told us about being "harassed" by Nigerian sailors currently posted at Coast Guard Island. Apparently, these sailors are on a ship given to the Nigerian Navy by the U.S. Coast Guard.

We were concerned about Marina. She seemed to really feel that the sailors had been overly aggressive in trying to talk to her and wanting to take her photo. Marina is a very protected young woman and not used to obvious attention from men despite her beauty.

Today, Alex and I went to Coast Guard Island to run the dogs and pick up some supplies at the Exchange. While we were there, we saw dozens of young Nigerian sailors walking around. I am not sure I've ever seen better looking men! They are very attractive people.

While I can appreciate Marina feeling intimidated by them, all I can say is that I'm not sure why. These guys may get a little close to you when they talk to you, but so what! They may ask to take your photo and tell you that you are pretty, but so what! They are normal and healthy young men.

Two of the Nigerian guys were coming on base as we were leaving today. They were talking and laughing with each other as they walked. I grinned and waved at them and they grinned and waved back at me as we passed! Oh, no. I have no problem with Nigerian sailors at all! Actually, I'm kind of delighted to have them here in Alameda for a while. They certainly brighten up the landscape!

I've always been a sucker for a uniform.

The Road To Hell

It started with a good idea.

The 3-day holiday weekend! Total bliss! Well, except for the fact that I was home alone gazing out the window at heavy fog with no plans whatsoever.

This was during one of my infrequent "dry spells". Or maybe I should say I was "between engagements". Whatever the case, I had just ended a relationship with Mr. Wrong and the next Mr. Wrong had not yet appeared.

The call from Cassie came early on Saturday morning. "What are you doing for the weekend?" Cassie lived in Sacramento, a couple of hours away from San Francisco. I responded with my plan to sleep late, watch television, and read books. Cassie said, "Why don't you come up here? We can sit by the pool, work on our tans, drink wine, gossip, and generally just relax." I told her that sounded great, but without a car, I really didn't think I could do it.

"Don't be silly!", Cassie said. "Take the Greyhound!" If she had told me to take the space shuttle, I wouldn't have been more surprised. Although I was in my early 30's at the time, I had never taken a Greyhound bus. I had seen those buses on the road, but I'd never actually even thought about going anywhere on one. It just seemed slightly seedy to me.

Cassie went on to describe the 80 degree weather, the cute guys that just moved into her apartment complex, and all the joys I would not be experiencing in cold and foggy San Francisco. "Oh, come on, Linda! Don't be so prissy!"

I told her I would call and see about schedules and get back to her. I called Greyhound and I was told the price and the schedule. I decided to make this an adventure and just do it. (I could have written the Nike slogan at that point in my life.)

Rather than getting "packed" for a trip, I decided I would just take a Macy's paper shopping bag and throw my things in there. I didn't need much. I packed a bikini, underwear, shorts and a tank top along with a big handful of tampons (because you just never know, or at least I never really knew) and my cosmetics and toothbrush! I also brought a couple of books to read on the trip. I think I was out the door within a half an hour.

The Greyhound station in San Francisco is in an area called "The Tenderloin". It is a very blighted neighborhood. Hookers and pimps all over the street outside of the terminal. There were several flat-eyed cops who looked at everyone funny, even me. Inside the terminal, I quickly found the ticket window and got my round-trip ticket for Sacramento. The bored clerk pointed me in the direction of my bus and I walked through some pretty shady looking characters to get there.

There was already a line formed and I got in line right behind a couple of young sailors. The sailors were a little intoxicated, but not really rude. The bus arrived and we got on. I was in the next to last row with the sailors in the seats behind me. I put my bag on the floor and opened my book.

Since I was at the back of the bus, a lot of people came past me when they wanted to use the restrooms. (It's a two hour trip, people. Pee before you leave home!) Of course, I think some of them went into the bathroom to shoot their heroin. This was sort of a scary cast of characters.

The sailors were having a bitch session behind me and they were also drinking beer. I could hear the "pop tops" being snapped every few minutes.

It was only a two hour trip but it seemed a lot longer. We finally arrived in Sacramento and I stood up and grabbed my bag and got in the aisle to depart the bus.

I was shocked when the bottom of my bag opened up and all of my "stuff" rolled up the aisle in front of me. Tampons spewed everywhere, little items of clothing landing in the muck on the floor, my pitiful toothbrush laying there. I guess the sailors had been drinking their beer and leaving the cans on the floor under my seat where the spillage caused the shopping bag to fail.

A very kind gentleman gave me a plastic bag and I grabbed my panties and swimsuit and cosmetics bag and toss them in. I ignored the tampons all over the floor.

A young man's voice, one of the sailor's, said "Miss, here's your toothbrush!" I said "Oh thank you." (Yeah, sailor boy, I'm really going to use an toothbrush that came off a Greyhound bus floor.)

I wasn't even at the swimming pool or in the sun and I was already having an adventure! Lucky me!

That is the first, last, and only time I ever rode on a Greyhound bus.