living. loving. laughing.

living.  loving.  laughing.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

adventures in grey-hounding...

(written Friday, 1/12...)

There’s this Adventures in Babysitting image I have of the Greyhound bus (system) and its subsequent stations: sitting in the Chicago bus station sits the Babysitter’s best friend. She’s lost her glasses because the homeless lady stole them from her. She’s hungry, but doesn’t have enough money for a Coke, and they won’t take her second-hand check. The place is the epitome of dirty, and as she reaches down to pet the “kitty cat,” she soon discovers that it ain’t no pretty kitty - it’s a rat!

Guarding my suitcase and book bag, I bravely booked a ticket this morning from Atlanta to Savannah for a short two-day trip. I get to visit college roommate and dear friend Mandy before leaving GA on Sunday afternoon. You’d think that in the excitement of getting to meet her son for the first time, hanging out with her and her husband, Steve, and doting on my 8-month preggers “dandy mandy” that I wouldn’t worry about rats and getting my contacts plucked out of my eyeballs (((I mean come on, the homeless lady just took her eye glasses from off her face!))), and having to call my BFF bawling because of all these weird southern folks.

Truth be told, I’m really not that worried, but in fact, I’m pleasantly surprised. The bus is packed, though not too much that I don’t have a seat to myself. We’re 56 miles from Savannah, and I just finished reading The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. (Justification #567: my brain is numb from Winter Training – I needed some brainless pleasure. Pleasure?). You’re not allowed to talk on your cell phone, so it’s quiet. Fir trees and deciduous trees both pack the sides of the roadway, and the dirt is a lovely, deep red. The nice bus driver has offered me his hand in stepping in and out of the bus, and there’s just something about southern hospitality that makes the hidden girlish part of my heart smile. And the sun is shining. Hard. Tomorrow we hit the Atlantic Ocean of all places – in January! – and soak up those 78 degrees for all it’s worth.

Am I ready to get off the bus? Yes. Am I so excited to see my little precious Mr. Darcy puppy in 48.2 hours? Yes. But has my perception of planes, trains and namely automobiles named Greyhound changed? Yes….and I say that without worry of any “here kitty, kitty” rat-contact today.