Miss Ashley Pants

Jesus, my geography is awful.

No, really. This isn’t a woe-is-me thing. Like, I seriously hated it in middle and high school (along with history) because my teachers taught both terribly- either reading from a book back into the book, at a projector screen in the dark facing away from the class, or from their notes with all the inflection and enthusiasm of Ben Stein on Qualudes. All were perfect atmospheres to doodle in my notes or daydream about the senior guy I should have never dated.

Because of that, I simply couldn’t relate when anyone brought it up.

It was boring for me.

The irony is that my dad had spent so much time in Belgium and other random countries while I was a kid, that I didn’t see much of him during my “window-of-opportunity-for-shit-to-become-interesting” years. He probably had a lot to relate about where he’d gone and what he saw; but since my mom wasn’t that into geography either (busy raising and worrying about two brats on her own), and since my own experiences with all things in the subject made even hearing the word itself elicit boredom induced salivation, I wasn’t really open to learning or talking about it if anyone brought it up.

My basics just weren’t there to make discussion entertaining. Also, I think I knew that I myself probably wasn’t ever going to go to any of those places. I mean, our only “vacations” when I was a kid were usually to where my sister’s basketball tournaments took place (namely up and down the East coast). And even that was generally the equivalent of a weekend long layover in some awesome place you never really see: The whole thing took place in a hotel or dusty, smelly gym with screaming parents and coaches, minimal sightseeing, and loud arguing between my mom and then adolescent or teenage sister going through her own dark and twisted phase. I just tried to stay out of sight, much less argue about doing something fun.

So what did it matter? What’d it have to do with me? Psshh… I didn’t care.

And I was right. I’m on the wrong side of 25 already and likely won’t travel to any of these places anytime soon and still don’t know much about any of them. The few places I have learned about (even in America, embarrassingly), I only did because of time spent briefly living there, or finally visiting once I reached high school. I guess it takes a personal interest or investment for me to want to learn anything. But as I started brushing up on my geography (euphemism for “re-learn from formative school”) recently to try and understand some some regions relevant to a new job position I took, it made me realize that I wish there was someone (other than my dad) who would done more traveling when I was in that age range….

Carmen Sandiego.

That’s right. That bitch. All that time I spent hunting down her ass with the tiny map booklet that came with the CD ROM game, and she’d repeatedly hide in the same predictable places- seemingly always Norway, Australia, or Iceland. At the time, I didn’t realize she was tricking me into learning at least some geography (the same way Oregon Trail tricked me into appreciating violent video games by shooting a bear made of four pixels); but now I appreciate her efforts.

I just wish she’d dirtied up her passport with a little more variety… because God knows I sure don’t plan to anytime soon.

Oh well, thank goodness for Wikipedia.

And this guy:

<3~A