She Lives!

But just barely. This is has been an excellent and horrible summer. A lot of homesick tears and turning twenty one. Ugh. Soon, I’ll have my own apartment that I can’t afford, but unlimited wireless ^_^. There seems to be some kind of alarm going off at the moment….I guess I’ll ignore it until someone tells me to leave. So, the topic of today is: bus people. I have had the unfortunate opportunity of riding the bus every day since…May 24th. It ales me to say that I just now figured out how to use the subway system here. Which is, embarassingly elementary. One train goes uptown, the other downtown. And I only just learned this three days ago. Go figure. So! Bus people. If I could just ride the bus without being harrassed or stared at, just once, it would be so thrilling. Instead, there’s always someone at one of my three or four bus stops that asks for a dollar or fifty cents. Because I have a constant guilty and worrisome conscience, every once in a while I give whoever a quarter or so if I can. It doesn’t bother me that they ask. What bothers me is the -way- they ask. Often, the way they ask is the deciding factor in whether or not I spot them their fifty cents. Politeness can get you somewhere every now and then. Even if it’s fake. The second thing that annoys me about bus people are the women with four kids and a stroller. Only on the number eight bus does this bother me. The eight bus never comes on time, or sometimes doesn’t come at all. So when I’m trying to catch a bus that comes within four or five minutes of the eight picking me up, I don’t want to wait for the lady to struggle with the stroller she should have folded before the bus had come for her. Or yell at her children to find a seat instead of paying her fare right away. I also hate having to eye every person up and down, begging a higher power to not let them sit next to me. I sat next to a kid reading a book called Isle Witch and listening to his headphones today. He sat very close to the window because he didn’t want me to touch him. But I was thinking I didn’t want -him- to touch me.

Hm.

Leigha.