Right.
After getting back to Helen’s house at around 11:00ish, we upload some pictures, and then we go to sleeeeeeeeeep…at around 11:30. We wake up. We eat amazing food. We joke around. We’re silly and amazing. Just roll with it.
I can’t stay all day, because we have to drop Helen off at dance around 2pm. Exeunt Helen. Mrs. Lindamood kindly drives me over to my cousins house. Enter Kalayna. We act like idiots, of course. And we have fun, and joke around, and yada yada. Then, we go to see the snow sculptures. First, we stop at Uncle John’s office, where we split into two cars. Layna is driving the little car. Kalayna gets lost, and we all laugh at *cough* I mean, WITH her. We found our way to the sculptures at last, and we look at them. They were perty. And we voted. I liked the one with the polar bear playing the piano.
Anyway, to my point. I have to take a bus home.
I have three bags with me; my camera bag with super expensive camera, my green bag, and my backpack. So, my cousins drive me up to the curb and I grab my stuff out of the back. They tell me to call them if I miss the bus. Don’t even mention that possibility please, it makes me queasy.
Here’s the thing; I’ve been on one of these public transportation buses ONCE. And that one time I had Kimber to worry about the details. If I followed her, I was okay. But on my own? *gulp* I was more than a little apprehensive.
So, my cousins drive away, and I turn around to take in my surroundings. It smells like cigarette smoke and cold air, my nose is turning red from the cold air and my toes are freezing through my converse. I hear swearing and honking and every other city sound. People mill around as bus after bus makes its way to the curb. I quickly ask the first bus driver where her bus is going. She tells me she’s going around back, and pulls away.
Thanks lady, real helpful.
Then, I hurry to the next bus that pulls up and ask her which bus would take me to Wasilla. She said I’d need to take the Valley Mover (I know this already, but where IS the Valley Mover?), and tells me that they pick up around the corner and across the street. I look over that direction. I see a pink and white bus. Wait…THAT’S MY BUS.
I start running as fast as I can with three bags bouncing up and down on my arms. Right as I get to the curb, the bus pulls away and drives off.
So, here I am alone downtown at the bus station. I was totally not freaking out. At all. Okay, yeah, guess who started praying? I called my cousins and told them I’d missed my bus. Fortunately, they were just two blocks down looking at the ice sculptures. I walked over there. My feet were frozen, I was traumatized, and I was ready to be home.
Unfortunately, my mom thought it was too dangerous (?) for me to stay and wait for the next bus, so I ended up spending the night at my cousins.
So there you have it. I don’t like public transportation buses.
~La vie est belle, Bri~
