How can you do this thing to me?

Snippets of Today:
There is no falsehood in my belly.
I stretched my feet out in order that I might know what I could eat.
My friends and I like to go see non-English movies.
We are hungry. The town people have started to eat each other.

(three out of the four sentences are from Egyptian)

It's just been one of those inadequate weeks so far. So inadequate in fact that I decided I'd take the C bus home tonight, even if it meant walking farther to the dorm, just so that I could have the odd bus driver. I don't even know what his name is, but as I got on the bus, I gazed fondly at the white crotcheted doily hanging around his neck, his bling bling, his enormous rings, and got the first positive remark of the day from him: "I'm lovin' those ID cards, I'm lovin' those ID cards." The rest of the bus ride was spent baskin' in his lovin' with his booming reassurances that everyone on the bus is INDEED a winner and to remember that God does INDEED love us all.

And then I passed about 6 people in wheelchairs on the way home.

There are tons of things I wish I could somehow verbalize just to see if other people feel the same way as well. I generally just wish that giving someone I care about a blood transfusion would inextricably connect us and I wouldn't even have to say anything for that certain person to automatically know why I decided I'd sit down there and why I decided not to smile when I should have.

Oh, what's that you say? That's what's called a SOULMATE? WRONG!

However, what am I complaining about? I mean, those wily Egyptians also had huge problems on their hands.:

There is no falsehood in my belly?

They thought their soul was in their belly. If that were the case, I would be able to communicate freely and clearly through belches and hiccups.

No matter what, though, no matter how stupid and unintelligent I start to feel in my art history, Egyptian, Spanish, and Sosc classes, I will take comfort knowing that the bus driver of the C bus thinks I'M a superstar.