Going Mobile

I'm writing this at home, on my own computer. After one last game of Mario Party 8 this morning, Lauren drove me to the Pittsfield Bus Terminal and stayed with me until the 10:30AM bus to New York arrived. She's the best best friend there is, and I miss her already.

The bus ride to New York was actually quite pleasant. It poured in the morning, but the rain let up around the time Lauren and I left for the bus terminal. By the time the bus hit Waterbury, Connecticut, the clouds were breaking up, and the sun was definitely out as we made our way through the mild traffic in the Bronx.

The Bronx wasn't the problem this time. The bus drove down 9th Street to get to Port Authority, and the traffic once we got past 5th Avenue and Central Park was appalling. No wonder they call it "Hell's Kitchen"; it sure felt like it. The bus was a half-hour late in arriving, and I barely made it to my next bus.

Have I mentioned how much I HATE, HATE Port Authority Bus Terminal? There were two long and disorganized lines waiting to go to Mt. Laurel and to Philadelphia by the time I got down there. Of course, both of those busses were late. Around quarter of 4 - fifteen minutes after the 3:30 bus was supposed to show up - a woman tells us to make one line, because we're all taking the same bus...and the Philadelphia line is already half-way across the terminal. Needless to say, this did NOT sit well with a lot of people, including me. As one of the last people in line, I had to argue my way onto the bus. I had a 3:30 ticket. It wasn't MY fault these idiots Port Authority hires obviously have no idea what they're doing. (I had problems there last Saturday, too. I had to ask four employees before I could find the Pittsfield gate...and a janitor finally told me!)

I was not a happy camper when I finally got on the bus. I was even less happy when I realized the bus was jammed to the gills and I ended up with the guy next to me snoring in my ear half-way to Mt. Laurel. Thankfully, the trip wasn't quite as bad as the last time I rode a bus that was full. The weather remained sunny, the traffic that had been so horrible in downtown New York had disappeared by the time the bus chugged its way through Lincoln Tunnel, and I didn't smell any smoke coming from the bathroom.

I called Dad right after I left New York and when I got in. I ate a lovely dinner of steak, corn, pierogies, and an old tomato recipe of Jodie's mother's after he picked me up and brought me over to their house. He, Jodie, and Jessa had spent the day watching football. Dad was watching - and yelling at - the Miami Dolphins-Arizona Cardinals game. Roughly translated, the Dolphins aren't very good these days. (Arizona slaughtered them, 31-10. (We also caught part of a much better game between the Jets and the Broncos. The latter just barely won, 39-38.)