Home at last. After way too many hours of class and work and meetings, and after two and a half hours on a bus and forty-five minutes in a car, I’m sitting on my own bed writing this post.
The bus ride was interesting, to say the least. Since it’s Spring Break, lots of students were looking to go home. I could tell right away, based on the masses of people flooding out of the dorms with rolling duffels and laptop cases that everyone would have to have a seat partner. A girl in the very back of the bus, however, had spread a pillow and blanket out over the three connected seats, and was preparing to spend the trip in comfort. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had recruited some poor freshman to stick cherries in her mouth, Cleopatra style.
As the bus began to fill up, and people lugging backpacks began migrating farther and farther back in search of an empty spot, I watched the girl turn up her nose at every hopeful who looked her way. Finally, I turned to her and said (maybe not so nicely) that the bus was going to be full, and that she was going to have to move over so people could sit next to her. She didn’t like hearing that. She raved and raved (while grudgingly budging up) about poor planning on the University’s part, and how they should have gotten more buses. I agreed with her on that point; UMM definitely should have spent more money in order to spare one selfish girl the indignity of sitting within two feet of mere mortals.
After that fiasco, I settled down against the window and promptly fell asleep. Not a good sleep, mind you, but a bus sleep that only lasts until your head slips from the narrow headrest and slams down into thin air. I did manage about a half hour, during which, I strongly suspect, I unknowingly had my head on my seat partner’s shoulder. I make this conclusion based on the strange look he gave me after I woke up.
We did begin chatting after a while, once the awkwardness that is attempted bus sleep wore off. Striking up conversation with strangers whilst traveling is rapidly becoming a talent of mine. Who would have thought?
He told me that his iPod was dead because he dropped it in the toilet the other day.
“Did it turn on after you got it out?” I asked.
“Oh yeah. It turned right on,” He replied.
“Then what happened to make it break?”
“I tried to rinse it off in the sink. Then it really died.”
It’s good to be home.