Home Again.

Today I boarded a greyhound and headed home to Marietta.

I got dropped off at the station in the pouring rain this afternoon, checked my bags, picked up my ticket, and settled into a highly uncomfortable chair to wait with others until our bus, #10, arrived at the station. Eventually everyone got in line to prepare to board. 30 minutes, half an episode of Las Vegas, an embarrassing fall off my suitcase, and a nice chat with the woman in front of me later I got on the bus.

I happened to be a greyhound virgin at the time and didn't really know what to expect. I sat in the front, as my mother advised, next to a seemingly nice man. The next 2 hours were quite an experience as I soaked in the culture of the colorful people surrounding me. I'm pretty sure the man next to me was making a bomb. What else does one do with a Zip-loc bag filled with batteries, petroleum jelly, hand sanitizer, and paper clips? The man behind me was even more of a trip. He was sporting a pair of Daisy Duke cutoff shorts and large sunglasses. He spent the entire trip talking to himself and singing Born in the USA. I was ready to kill him AND Bruce Springsteen.

3 things helped me keep my sanity: a bottle of Lipton sweetend black tea, Regina Spektor's "Soviet Kitsch" album, and a few humorous text messages from my friend Vince.

What seemed like eons later I got off at my stop. A quick fact that I was not aware of: Truck stops count as bus stations in small, out of the way cities. That being said, I perched on a slab of concrete outside of the Shenandoah Truck Stop and waited for my ride.

I made it back to my town and am looking forward to a glorious week of doing nothing.