Friday's trip continued...

Here is the final instalment of Friday's travelogue. Forgive the egocentric navel-gazing. It's what one does when one exists entirely inside one's head. Although, I supposed that if it were embarassing enough, I simply wouldn't post it. But that wouldn't be fun, now would it?

3:45 Friday

So my seatmate smells funny. And does not cut his fingernails. His nails are filthy. His fingers are stained yellow from smoking. His odour is faintly of stale egg salad. Not full blown "Eeew--Egg!" but rather " What is that? Is it egg? It is. It's egg. Eeew."

We're stopped at Oxford for a 10 minute break so that people can smoke and spend all their cash at this tiny, disgusting little store. I wonder what kind of kickback the bus line gets for driving at least 15 minutes off the main road to pick up passengers at THIS location. I can't imagine that the store would survive without all the pop and chips sales. Although, in addition to being a store of (dubious) convenience, it is also a florist. Perhaps the floral arrangement business in Oxford is booming and it actually supports the owners' convenience store dream. It might! You never know.

I've become hypersensitive to the fact that I am an elitist snob. I can't help it. I know it's wrong. I don't have hte cash to support my attitude--but there it is nonetheless. I'm a snob.

I have a very low threshold of tolerance for those who are unclean. I don't understand how someone over 12 cannot grasp the importance of having clean hands. Filth spreads disease. And it's just plain gross.

I feel for the poor. I'm empathetic. Hell, if I don't get things straightened out soon, I could be a lot more visibly one of them. But there's something to be said for Luke's blatant disregard for other people. He never wastes time or emotion on people who won't help themselves. Not quite true--he feels and exhibits disdain.

I'll feel bad until they're out of my line of vision. When my immediate discomfort stops, I forget how bad I felt to have things. I forget to be sorry that I have a job and social skills and they don't. He just never considers it in the first place. Arguably more honest an approach than mine. Certainly less hypocritical.

***

I'm eating my favouirite lollipop. (Note the seamless transition? True to form I've considered the poor and downtrodden, then quickly moved on to something more pleasant). It's a caramel apple pop. A green-apple flavoured pop covered in toffee. Delicious!

We're now in Springhill--hometown of Anne Murray. I've always thought of stopping here, but never before have. I'm beginning to see the wisdom of my actions.

Something I really enjoyed about Luke was his fondness for driving around aimlessly. I enjoyed that a lot. I especially appreciated that he was almost always willing to take whatever little sideroad or pitstop or detour I suggested. "Let's get ice cream," I would cry! "Turn right," I'd holler! And when I skipped on the street, or swung in circles around a light post, he was mildly embarrassed, but always amused. I hope that I find that again soon--it was fun.

It's funny--I'd forgotten how to write. Now I get the faint inclination that I may have been pretty good at it once.

Chrissy told me yesterday that she really enjoys reading my Blog. And that makes me very happy. Pumps the ego a little bit. :) I have my favourites that I read either for content or style. Since I have no content, it pleases me to think that someone enjoys my style--even if it's just Chrissy (who has to say nice things--OR ELSE!!).

I enjoy writing once I'm started. I always havea difficult time getting started. I have been telling myself for years now to just begin--but I never get off the ground. The first New Year's after University, I was home. Chris H. and I went to a party at Susan S's house. I bumped into Tom White.

I'd always admired Tom. He was an attractive boy--but smart. He was very nice, which is why I noticed him. He hung with the cool crowd: pledged a frat, played varsity sports...You know the type. Anyway. He had always been nice to me. We got paired up in English a lot because we were both smart and Miss Hanes was smarter.

So at this party, we chatted a bit. Then he asked me "How come you haven't written?" I was taken aback. It hadn't occurred to me that we'd been close enough to warrant correspondance--but he was drunk, and hey--you never know! So I said "Umm...I didn't have your address?" He said, "No-no...A book. Why haven't you written abook yet? You're really good!" So I was embarrassed and changed the sumbject. But I've always had it in the back of my mind ever since. Why haven't I? [perhaps that run-on sentence with horrific grammar and terrible conversation will give you a gigantic hint!]

Same reason I haven't submitted my taxes, most likely.

Remind me to never take the bus again. This is tedious. Although I am writing, and I've solved the staffing problems in Flooring (I need 3 more full-time staff!), so I guess it's not all a waste.

We're only in Amherst and it's 4:30. God only knows what time we'll end up in Fredericton. Sheesh.

G'nite again--naptime.