The bus is the best place to watch people, so sometimes I'll write things down while I'm still riding it, since I have nothing else to do. Here's a tale of Wallace's first smile.
"Literally every day on my way home I sit across from this droopy-eyed black guy"
"Name him"
"Wallace"
What I texted to my brother is true. Every day after class when I take the 34 home, I sit right across from Wallace, in the seat directly next to the wall separating the bus driver from the bus drivees. There's a little plastic box attached to the wall that's probably supposed to hold bus schedules, but it's always empty, and always shiny, so it reflects like a mirror. So, if you look into the plastic-box-mirror as the bus is moving, you see the scenery in that mirror-world moving in the opposite direction that it should. Seeing the scenery go one way while feeling myself move another doesn't really sound that special, but it throws me off enough to make me feel like I'm suffocating.
Wallace is probably around 40 (or in his 30's if he didn't age well) and the thing about him is that he always looks miserable. He must work on campus, or study on campus, because he always has a scholarly bag slung around his shoulder. By the way he cradles his partially balding head in his limp hands, though, you'd think he'd been framed for murder and was going to a from the courtroom every day at the same time to await his unjust fate.
I always think, poor Wallace! Don't you ever have a good day? I'd never seen him smile, before today.
We were rapidly approaching his stop, the one right before Publix, when he suddenly jumped a little in his seat, and started to grasp desperately at the cord you pull to make the sign go "Stop Requested". He couldn't quite get a hold of it, though, and his hand slipped a bit and fell out of reach of the cord, but into reach of the shoulder of the curly-haired blonde next to him. For half a second, Wallace's arm was around her shoulder, but he quickly withdrew it, and flashed an embarrassed grin. For that split second, it seemed like he didn't have a care in the world -- no being framed for murder, no partial balding, no droopy eyes. I'll go as far as to say that in that instant, Wallace seemed to be, almost, a rather strapping young lad!
But on Monday when I get on the 34 at 2:52, I'm sure he'll be slumped over sighing, again. Thus is the life of Wallace.
Why have I seen two Leonardo Dicaprio movies in the past week?
Why is another one downloading right now?
Why is another one downloading right now?
It's a rainy day
You know what that means...
Yeah. It means it's raining.
Some people say they like rainy days, but that they only want to stay in.
Doesn't that just mean they like their house?
I like rainy days indoors and outdoors, but if I weren't sick right now, I'd be outside for sure!
I always wondered why there were so many adults with terrible temperaments, when it seemed like most of the young people around me were of a generally pleasant disposition.
An interesting thing is happening, now, though, in that I think a transformation from pleasant youth to cranky adult is currently happening, right in front of my eyes.
(And no, it's not me looking in the mirror, I've always been cranky!)
So, I've got this tentative theory: Might it be that people's jobs are what turns them into what they are?
Over the course of one year, someone went from being an easy-going, good-humored
type of fellow, to a snappy, frowny one, who doesn't understand jokes. And seemingly the only thing that's changed in that time was that this fellow happened to start working as an assistant teacher for very young children. 
Hm...
Is there a connection?
Do you think that if someone's grows accustomed to scolding and listening to the simple speech of undeveloped humans, will they behave differently even with their peers?
Oh, also, I caught a cold
An interesting thing is happening, now, though, in that I think a transformation from pleasant youth to cranky adult is currently happening, right in front of my eyes.
(And no, it's not me looking in the mirror, I've always been cranky!)
So, I've got this tentative theory: Might it be that people's jobs are what turns them into what they are?
Over the course of one year, someone went from being an easy-going, good-humored
type of fellow, to a snappy, frowny one, who doesn't understand jokes. And seemingly the only thing that's changed in that time was that this fellow happened to start working as an assistant teacher for very young children. Hm...
Is there a connection?
Do you think that if someone's grows accustomed to scolding and listening to the simple speech of undeveloped humans, will they behave differently even with their peers?
Oh, also, I caught a cold
Here's some of the delicious food my brother cooked for the 2nd Annual Veteran's Day Indian Cookout!
It was really good, I have to stress that. Used a lot of nuts and things.
Tomorrow is a "Thanksgiving potluck", but Joseph and I are just going to go to our favorite Vietnamese restaurant and bring a plate of that.
I finally mailed my job application to Washington today...
