On the move.
Yesterday, after my last class, I hopped on the subway (well, "hopped" isn't quite accurate considering the two bags I was lugging around) to Penn Station. Once there, I found a spot on a Long Island Rail Road train to Ronkonkoma. After about 90 minutes sitting between two large, sleeping men I got off the train and hailed a cab for the quick drive to the Islip airport. I hung out in the airport for an hour or so and then boarded a plance to Chicago. I'd intended to get some reading done on the plane, but I wound up just listening to my iPod. I landed at Midway and quickly found Kate, who had kindly bussed it out to the airport to meet me. We stood around for another 20 minutes or so waiting for a bus and then rode the bus for about 45 minutes to Hyde Park. All in all, it took me about 7 hours to get from NYU to the place I'm staying in Chicago. Not too bad for taking public transportation basically from door to door.
Today, we walked. There were some stops along the way and some good food, but for right now, all I can remember is the walking. That said, we'll be spending the evening indoors, watching the Olympics and maybe a movie. I'm excited.
The only bad part of my day was riding the bus. I hate busses. Busses manage to uniquely merge my hatred of stop-and-go traffic and crowded, enclosed spaces. Also, my old neighborhood bus in DC made me suspicious of even the most pristine-looking busses. I lived in nice neighborhood -- nice enough that very few of its residents ever required bus assistance. Even I, arguably one the poorest people on my block, had a car. So our bus was underused and subsequently, appeared to be in excellent condition. Then one day I met it's perma-rider. He was about 30 years old and probably developmentally disabled. He liked to talk loudly about birthday parties, which was fine. The only problem with this universally friendly rider was that he also tended to wet his pants. Call me picky, but I don't like sitting in urine and now, that's what I imagine on every bus. Other than that, Chicago's great and as long I didn't have to rely on its busses, I could definitely live here.
Today, we walked. There were some stops along the way and some good food, but for right now, all I can remember is the walking. That said, we'll be spending the evening indoors, watching the Olympics and maybe a movie. I'm excited.
The only bad part of my day was riding the bus. I hate busses. Busses manage to uniquely merge my hatred of stop-and-go traffic and crowded, enclosed spaces. Also, my old neighborhood bus in DC made me suspicious of even the most pristine-looking busses. I lived in nice neighborhood -- nice enough that very few of its residents ever required bus assistance. Even I, arguably one the poorest people on my block, had a car. So our bus was underused and subsequently, appeared to be in excellent condition. Then one day I met it's perma-rider. He was about 30 years old and probably developmentally disabled. He liked to talk loudly about birthday parties, which was fine. The only problem with this universally friendly rider was that he also tended to wet his pants. Call me picky, but I don't like sitting in urine and now, that's what I imagine on every bus. Other than that, Chicago's great and as long I didn't have to rely on its busses, I could definitely live here.
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