The Epic Bus Ride

Don’t you hate getting on the bus and sitting next to someone who is eating the smelliest sandwich there is on the face of the earth? The sardine sandwich, is quite delicious, but is clearly not bus appropriate. Many people. Pungent smells. Extended periods of time. You get the point. So to all my fellow bus riders, I’m sorry. I was hungry. All my mom gave me was that sandwich and two hardboiled eggs. I did have you in mind, though, when I ate it, sneaking bites and then rewrapping it as quickly as possible. I also thought of you when I decided not to crack my hardboiled egg on the bus window. It would have been weird, I know. So instead, I tried to crack it by squeezing it. Of course, OF COURSE!, it would bust in my hands what was I THINKING. I dunno, I was exhausted at this point, really exhausted. Despite this mess and that it was one of those maddening HBE (whose shell sticks to the white), I ate it by meticulously picking the shells fragments from the egg --and sometimes my mouth.



Getting to the point, everything takes more effort when you travel. It takes more effort to get on a bus for four hours with the conductor yelling in Portuguese. It takes more effort to buy the little necessities because I can’t tell if crema is lotion or conditioner. It takes more effort to go to the post-office because I have to find it. Using Euros is painful and I always spend more than I think. I think to myself, the Euro costs a bit more than a dollar. But, 36 € isn’t just a little more than 36 dollars. Its 50 dollars!!! Really, what I need is a Jenn Robia to organize my life, to remind me to bring my passport to Portugal. Yes, I forgot it, missed my bus for the 3rd time, and payed for a 2nd ticket (I’m not dumb, I promise, just disorganized).



This is when traveling gets frustrating. The thing about studying aboard is that you are always “traveling”. Well, not exactly... right now I’m just sitting here in “my bedroom”. Still, the anxiety builds up and you start saying clichés like “life isn’t always rainbows and butterflies” to yourself in the mirror. Tonight, I got really homesick and was alone and lonely. I laid in my bed stressing that I have almost licked the bottom of the barrel of my life savings. I became aware that I was clenching the side of my bed and had to consciously relax, r.e.l.a.x.... That was all I could take and I made that international mommy/daddy call even though I was conscious of the Euros, I mean minutes, that I was spending on the phone. They told me what they were up to and I could just picture them in the horse field, Mom stroking Dance’s tail and Dad patting her muzzle. Kathy McKweon was in the background taking pictures of my beast-dog Riley. I felt OK after calling them, but surprisingly, felt even better after blogging.



Sometimes, I wonder why I do blog about this all. Why do I let you know how vulnerable I am and how forgetful I can be? Why do I expose myself like this? I guess a lot of it is that I feel better to write it down and to share it. Also, I feel better being honest with people instead of watering it down (which can get me in trouble when I’m inconsiderately blunt). But most importantly, it comes from the trust that I have in you, my readers. Thank you for all of the wonderful feedback that you have given me about my blog. I would probably continue writing it even if you told me nothing. But I’m certain, absolutely positive that without your praises I would have edited out a lot of the real emotion, which I consider the meat of my writing. So again, I appreciate hearing your thoughts. Thanks Dan. Thanks Josie. Thanks Landon, Jill, Carly, Kitty, Courtney G., Cindy S., Sarah C, Elle, Maddi. Thanks to my Old Breakfast Companion ;). Thank you Ricardo Alejandro Castro Siller (you have always been so, so sweet to me. T extraño mucho). Thank you everyone.

Although, I can’t say that I feel 100% better now, at least I’m tired enough to go to sleep :)