I rode the bus yesterday. It was my first time riding the bus home since middle school, and what an experience it was. I’ll refer to the notebook for my account of the event. [I originally wrote this in the notebook in cobbled-together French, of which I’m pretty proud.]
I had to take the bus because my dad’s out of town and my mom had work. I called up Kaylynn a couple days before and we decided where we were going to meet up. I’ve ridden the bus to school in the past, when we have a late-start day and my mom has work, so I was somewhat acquainted with the institution.
On that fateful day, I hurried to our rendez-vous point (strangely enough, I did not use that term when I wrote it in French :)) and waited worriedly. Then, Kaylynn and I set off to the bus gathering area place. We got on the bus without a hitch, though I do admit that those seats were rather cramped.
The bus ride was rather uneventful. The excitement came as we got off at the bus stop. I had pointed this out as we walked out to the buses, but it hit me again — everything was lovely. That morning, it had been very foggy (it had cleared up around 8:30, as I drove to school after getting my vaccination. Around that time, it was completely lovely. The light was just amazing). Things were just as pretty at 4 PM.
The bus stop, by a happy coincidence, is a short walk away from my neighborhood. It’s a little sketchy walking home, especially when you feel the awkwardity (I use this “word” because it has a great, awkward feel to its pronunciation) of people looking at you as they drive by. Also, there are no sidewalks.
The loveliness of the day made up for it, though. The sun was hitting everything at the right angle, and it felt as though I was in a Thomas Cole painting. I thoroughly enjoyed my walk home. I also thoroughly enjoyed my five hours of partaying before my mom got home (partaying is a relative term).
The best part? I get to do it all again tomorrow!