So yesterday, I went back home. This vacation was too short, way too short, less than a week, when two days are spent traveling.

I got up early enough for breakfast, found the ticket for the 7th, and then immediately lost it again. I had it in my hand, and then five minutes later it was completely gone. Fortunately, they accepted one of the tickets that I didn't use on Friday or Saturday.

Before breakfast, I packed, so that meant that I had plenty of time to do a few last things, go around the campus to photograph the beautiful buildings.

Not to mention the Statues of Pain. I never wrote about this last year, because, well, I never wrote vacation entries last year, but right in front of the reception building, there are these four statues, and to me, those statues look as though they are twisted in agony, it is the least restful and welcoming thing in the world to have in front of a building here people live and sleep!

I also had to do a little last-minute shopping, as I never had gotten that fountain pen.

Cameron had told me exactly where the store was the day before, (it turns out I had been scouring the wrong street, no shock there), and I went right there and found it, but it didn't open until noon. The bus that just might, but more than likely would not, get me to Buffalo in time for my flight was at 12.30p, so I figured that that would be pushing it. No cool fountain pen for me.

Hey, wait, I wonder if they have a website... they do! Maybe I'll be able to get my pen after all. They really felt good in the hand, and were only about $25.

Anyway, I had a couple of dollars left and decided to go to the Starbucks and get one of them chai crème frappuccinos. I had been thinking about it and tasting it in my mouth since that sample the day before, which I'm certain was the point of the sample.

So I went in and ordered one. And they had no idea what I was talking about. We spend five minutes going around, before I realized that I was pronouncing it Kye, and it's pronounced, well, how's it's spelled, Chai, with a hard "ch" sound before the "eye".

At last, though, I got it and I sucked it down, and immediately I wanted another one. I didn't get one, not the least of which reason because I did not actually have any more Canadian money, I was down to my last $1.08 after that, and also because I am a grown person and I have some self-control.

Ha ha, just kidding! No, it was the money.

So I went back to the dorm and got my bags and started walking to the bus station. It was kind of early yet, but I figured that I might want to get somewhere on time for once in my entire life, and it was kind of hot, and I didn't want to have to rush.

Also, since I spent all my money on that chai crème frappuccino, I couldn't afford a taxi if I started running late, so I had better make certain that that was not a possibility.

It was a long, fairly tiresome walk, but I stopped and took pictures every few feet, so I ended up being pleased about it. Even when a bus came and I could have gotten on it had I not spent all of my money on that chai crème frappuccino. Damn you, Starbucks!!

I started getting really thirsty, too, but $1.08 won't buy you any more to drink in Canada than it will in New York. I figured there would be a water fountain at the bus stop, though, or possibly a place where I could buy something to drink using a credit card.

And yes, I could have stopped and gotten some money from a cash machine, but I spent all of this past year with a Canadian $20 in my pocket, and I was really looking forward to spending my money exactly. Besides, I'd probably be able to buy something with a card. Probably.

O, here's something I keep forgetting to mention. There was garbage everywhere, overflowing trash cans, which is terribly strange since Toronto is famous for being so clean, and I thought, on my first night, "What is there, a garbage strike?" Yep, that's what there was! Kind of an everything strike, but that included garbage. So here is something that you will never see again, trash on a Toronto street.

I must say, however, that this picture was taken on about day thirteen or fourteen of the strike, and in New York, that would be what it would look like on day one.

I got to the Greyhound station about ten minutes or so before my bus, and got into the long long line of people trying to get on it.

The good thing about Greyhound, though, is that if too many people want to get on a bus, why they just pull out another bus and put them on it, which is what they did to us.

The bad thing about Greyhound is that they are at the mercy of traffic, and by golly, there was some traffic yesterday. But that's still in the future. O, and by the way, no water in the station, I would just have to be thirsty. In that traffic that I haven't mentioned yet.

Once we finally got started, which took a little while, we made a pretty good pace, I thought, but since we started late, I wasn't certain about whether or not we would get to Buffalo late. We were supposed to get there at 3.30p, and my flight was at 5p, an hour-long bus ride across town. Any lateness would not be particularly helpful.

We stopped someplace, I cannot remember where, to take on more passengers, once of whom was a peculiar German guy who decided that I was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He told me so, several times. It was kind of weird, but he seemed very sincere, and only a little bit creepy.

He really really wanted me to change my plans and get off at Niagara Falls with him. I decided not to, because I had to go to work today, and people were expecting me at home, o yeah, and because he was a middle-aged German weirdo!

It's nice to feel appreciated, but honestly, can I never attract someone just a little bit edible? Just once?

We stopped at Niagara, and we all got out of the bus to stretch our legs and so on, me avoiding that German guy one last time, then I found a drinking fountain and drained it dry. We all got back on the bus, and then the driver announced that we weren't going anywhere, that there was a three hour backup on all of the bridges into the states, what with the fact that it was the end of the 4th July weekend and apparently every single person in America spent the holiday in Canada. Go figure!

Anyway, he said that we might as well wait at the station as in traffic, so we did. I got out again, and found a soda machine where the Pepsi only cost a dollar, so I was able to buy one, hooray hooray, and, realizing that I was famished, pulled out the delicious sausage rolls that I was bringing back to NY.

I ate both of them, and I had been planning to save them, but hey, I probably would have put them in the fridge, forgotten about them, and then had to pitch them, so might as well eat them when I really needed them!

We probably were at the station for an hour, and I pretty much realized that there was no way that I would make my flight, which was actually pretty relaxing. If it's impossible, there's no reason to worry about it!

After an hour or so, the driver had worked out why may have been a decent route, skipping most of the really bad traffic, and we left.

When we hit the traffic, this is what it looked like. This is the drive-up to the border, and every single one of those cars you see on all three roads was completely stopped.

After probably another hour going about an inch every few minutes, we hit the border. Hooray!

There was passport control again, which went somewhat ridiculously quickly, especially for the American side, which was confirmed by the driver when he said that he had never once spent less than two solid hours in customs.

I guess it helped that we were the only bus there, and we weren't full. The customs agent got a big kick when he looked through my suitcase at all of the books and soap. I must have looked like an extremely clean, well-read person. Which I am! You know, except for the extremely clean part. Some days, anyway.

Finally we got to Buffalo, sweet Buffalo, and I got myself to the airport.

There were two more flights that night, one at 7.30p and one at 9.30p, both of which were oversold, so they put me down for standby. I wasn't really all that interested in spending the night in the Buffalo airport, but I would if I had to.

Which I didn't! All of the standbys got on the 7.30p flight, and there were even a few empty seats on the plane. I was home by 10p or so. Which meant that I had spent something like ten hours traveling, door to door.

Never again, man. I go the Buffalo route because it is so much cheaper, but ten hours traveling on three different conveyances, and dragging luggage around and dealing with traffic, forget it, never again. I'll pay more to have a shorter trip, or even not a shorter trip but a trip all on one thing--one train, one plane, one something.

I don't stay in hotels because I am too cheap and too poor, but from now on, no more cheapass flights.

And that was Day Five, and my vacation was over.

Today's horoscope:
Decide which rules at work are helpful and which need changing to increase efficiency. Then work improve those regulations.

One year ago today:
Can someone please tell me whose idea it was to make negatives and paper different sizes?

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Last Updated Sun 21 July 18:26:09 2002