Channing Tatum - don't get it. His face is weirdly shaped and I don't like his ears.
I love you, Jess. His eyes bug me more than his ears, but I really just can't with his face. Someone last night said, "Yeah, it's not about the face, it's about everything underneath the face," but, really, it's not like the entertainment world is lacking in boys who have pretty bodies *and* pretty faces. I feel like I should be getting him, because he is clearly a Thing with so many people I respect, but I just don't. My eyeballs are tone-deaf to him.
I just got back from escorting Matilda's class back to school from a field trip to the Aquarium of the Bay, out at Pier 39. This entailed a bus trip downtown and a long walk from the Ferry Building up to the tourist zone, during which I got to eavesdrop on some kids playing Truth or Dare (mostly Truthing, mostly trying to find out who the others considered friends, friends who were boys/girls, who they had crushes on, who they LIKED liked [how this was different than having a crush was not explained], and who they thought might have a crush on or LIKE like them).
There was also a hand-jive-ish game I hadn't heard since I was six or seven -- counting on the fingers with "Johnny Johnny Johnny Johnny WHOOPS Johnny-WHOOPS Johnny Johnny Johnny Johnny." Does anyone else remember this? And a lot of poking and shoving and pinching and getting each other in headlocks, and one kid or another having an attack of mopes and drooping off and having to be cozened by the teacher back into good cheer and participation. She's kind of a wizard.
The Aquarium itself was much fun, and fairly uneventful with a side of delightful (river otters at feeding/training time for maximal cuteness and interactivity), right up until end-of-lunch cleanup time.
We were all sitting in the play area by the pier, finishing off the last few bites and gathering up all the wrappers and bags, when a handsome and well-groomed guy walked up to us and said smilingly, "Kids? Out on a field trip, huh?" And we all said yes because he radiated sanity, authority and pleasantness -- most deceptively, it turned out, because his next words were: "Just a few rules, kids. First, always follow God, because He's the one who made you. Next, if you're a girl, make sure when you grow up that you marry a boy and only a boy, so then you can be a princess! And boys, make sure that you marry a girl and only a girl [he didn't promise the boys any royal status to go with their cis/het marriages -- too bad, boys]. And then -- "
"Kids, I think it's best we just walk away RIGHT NOW," Ms. DB said in her most I-love-you-all-but-do-as-I-say-this-instant voice. And everyone jumped up and single-filed away more quickly and obediently than at any other point all day.
The man yelled after us, "And don't listen to her! She doesn't know what the hell she's talking about! She's going to go to hell! Grown-ups are terrible! They've messed up the world!"
"Just keep walking!" Ms. DB shouted cheerfully.
As we walked, I could hear a couple of the boys whispering, "That guy was RUDE! And MEAN to Ms. DB! We should punch him." Matilda said, "I think we're walking away because Ms. DB wanted to punch him herself, although she's usually very un-violent." And another boy said, "He's got a bad case of thinking too much about God."
Then we had to all huddle together on the F Market platform to put some distance between ourselves and an audibly stenchy man, only to get on and sit right next to another audibly stenchy man with splotchy pants and a pocket knife. God-wants-you-to-be-a-het-princess man was starting to look good in comparison.
Ahhhh, urban field trips!