Mozilla Firefox just may be the sexiest browser in world history. Now if only I can figure out how to get it so that it opens a duplicate window of the current page when I press Ctrl+N, rather than the home page.

Oh, and by the way, I'm home.

I left Rebecca's cousin's house in Long Beach at 4:25. We hit every red light on the way to the LIRR station (Rebecca's cousin drove us, as we didn't have time to walk), and arrived instants before the train left. Fortunately, there was another guy racing to make the train, so the conductor held it for us. Triumph! Rebecca and I hugged and said our goodbyes, and my Grand Public Transportation Adventure began!

Once I arrived at Penn Station in NYC (about 5:15), I picked up a smoothie, knowing I wouldn't be able to eat until about 8 (lunch was at 3), then I used my awesome subway near-photographic memory to navigate the system WITHOUT AID OF A MAP. Of course, I only had to change trains once, but still. That's kind of awesome. I rode to the East Broadway stop, the closest to the Chinatown bus stop, and walked the remaining blocks to 88 E Broadway, arriving at about 6:15, then I just chilled at the stop and waited for the 6:30 bus to arrive.

At 6:45, they were still loading passengers for nothing but DC buses. Watching frantic Chinese women gesticulating wildly at groups of people and giant vehicles, shouting "DCDCDC!" is amusing for the first two minutes, but after 30, I had a headache. The potent auto fumes and the reek of a dozen smokers in tight confines may have contributed.

At 7:15, the natives were getting restless. More and more buses kept coming for DC passengers, but we had not heard hide nor hair from any bus bound for Philadelphia. Murmurings of mutiny were heard from within the ranks, and also refunds.

At 7:40, the first Philadelphia bus came! I put my bag in the luggage compartment and threw myself into the melee, thronging to give the compact yet surprisingly muscular Chinese women their tickets. I managed to get to the front, but because there were so many people and not nearly enough bus seats, they weren't taking money, only pre-purchased tickets. As my ticket was originally for 4PM, they wouldn't let me on. They actually shut the door in my face. Fiends!

The next bus came at 7:50. Rumors were circulating that because it was snowing in Philadelphia, the next after this wouldn't arrive until 9:30. One plucky traveller started a chant of "Where's the other bus?", which went on about a minute before we got bored. Again, I put my bag in the luggage compartment and squirmed my way towards the front of the line, but the other travellers were just too determined. Third-class passengers on the Titanic struggling to reach a free lifeboat exhibited less drive. The bus filled up quickly, and before I reached the front of the line, the doors were closed. Several obnoxious women clammored for refunds, while I exclaimed that I didn't care about a refund, I just wanted to go home. When they denied my plea to sit on the floor, the overhead compartment, the luggage bin, or even the roof, several would-be passengers joined me for a cathartic scream of rage.

"Two buses in five minutes!" the Chinese ladies promised (as they had been saying every five minutes for the past hour), but we were getting desperate. At 8:15, I pushed and shoved with all my might, knowing that any bus we encountered might be the last until 9:30. It was like a toy store the day before Christmas, only a hundred times worse. Finally, I managed to make my way to the front of the line, thrust my money at the ticket taker, and didn't pause to allow them to try and stop me. I struck a dramatic pose, shouted with glee, and found a nice window seat. And once again, valor and courage triumph over evil! Or maybe bloody-mindedness and a wicked right hook triumph over old ladies and small children that just don't want it enough.

I got back to my dorm at about 10:30 and basked in the glow of central heating. Oh, did I mention that for the 2 hours I was stuck at the station, we were outside, without cover, with temperatures in the upper 20s or lower 30s? Because that was the case. Yeah, that wasn't fun. But now it's over, and it's snowing, and it's pretty, and maybe my Animation class will be cancelled so that I don't have to worry about redoing this walk cycle? Yeah, keep dreaming, Spencer.