Steph Not Stephanie

After an amazing trip to NYC with some truly awesome hosts (thanks again, lovelies!), I hopped on the bus Friday evening to head back to the T-dot. A bit of a vacation hangover (not a literal one, since I barely drank there … I didn’t want to cheat on the stoop) made this entry a belated one, but here it is nonetheless. Round two of more than you ever needed to know about what goes on inside my head, set to music on a bus:

It’s a fucking Christmas miracle that on a bus with four empty seats, I get one of them beside me. That never happens. I tried to look less nice to discourage people from sitting next to me. The bow in my hair may have worked against me, but I channeled my best resting bitch face.

Oy, I have such a headache. Getting a tattoo on my ribs an hour before I had to be at the bus station was maybe not the best idea. On the plus side: it’s a-fucking-dorable. Let’s ease into this gently, shall we?

7pm – Sheryl Crow’s self-titled album. She’s singing about interstates and highways, this seems like a good omen. The sassy driver just told us ‘if he can’t smoke, we can’t smoke either,’ everyone chuckled. He also said to keep our personal conversations personal. He’s got spunk. A Change Would Do You Good: appropriate. This trip was exactly what I needed, exactly when I needed it. From the bus ride here, the awesome one-off date, the magic of NYC, and much-needed time spent with old friends, it was pretty much perfect. Next! Home, she’s talking about being 32, and having no idea what she’s doing, so that’s a good/familiar headspace. In the Lincoln Tunnel. All I can think about is an insane scene in The Stand where one of the main characters has to walk through it in the dark, with cars full of dead bodies and maybe not-so-dead whatever (because Stephen King) and he almost shoots his apocalypse girlfriend in the face. She was annoying and needy and it wouldn’t have been such a big loss (choose better girlfriends, Larry), but still my favourite/scariest bit in the book. Sadface, just saw the NYC skyline as I go deeper into NJ. I liked it there. If It Makes You Happy. I know some people who are unhappy no matter what … or they seem to choose things to make themselves martyrs. No thanks. Just saw a sign for Verona. I can’t be the only person who has the opening monologue from Romeo and Juliet run through my head when they see that. Right?

8:50pm – After a brief nap, Transatlanticism by Death Cab For Cutie. I’m sure I know some of their stuff, but I couldn’t tell you what. REST STOP AMERICAN CHERRY COKE HOLY HELL I FORGOT HOW DELICIOUS AND I COULD’VE BEEN DRINKING IT THIS WHOLE TRIP I FAIL. Sorry, that got weird. Can you tell I don’t drink pop at home? This album is very … fine. It’s not really holding my attention and I don’t really get what all the fuss is about? Sorry haters, Death Cab will not be sticking around after the trip.

10pm – Let’s try Erotica by Madonna again. Need something a bit less anticlimactic than Death Cab (see what I did there?). Fever is awesome, I don’t think I’ve heard a version of that song I don’t like. I like the little Vogue shoutout at the end of Deeper and Deeper. Holy hell these lyrics are dirty. ‘Go down where it’s warm inside, where all life begins, where my love is.’ Jesus, Madonna is subtle. Nap break. Ugh. 2am stop in Buffalo, way longer than it should be. ‘Bad girl drunk by six,’ that sounds like a good day to me. Waiting has an En Vogue/TLC vibe, but Thief of Hearts would be perfection for a drag routine. I would need an amazing drag name. Miss Representation? Allie Coholic? I wish I could walk in heels, but I can barely walk in flats. No drag in my future.

4:30am – Wide awake. Foo Fighters’ Greatest Hits. Have data again so this is the perfect soundtrack for some Facebook stalking. Goddamn I am good at this. I should be in CSIS or something. Also received this gem from a guy on OKC:

This is why I am single and what a welcome home. A greatest hits album might be cheating because I love all of these songs. Also jesusfuck it is freezing on this bus. Also also I hope the cab from the bus station will take American money because I cannot be bothered to go to the bank to exchange the $23 and change I have left over. Dear lord I cannot wait to take the bandage off this tattoo. The timing for this was a great fucking idea. Back in the city. It’s not NYC but it’s home, so maybe that’s better? I could make my home anywhere (and have) but for the next little while at least I will continue to be a Toronto girl. I think there might be something to the idea of seeing it through fresh eyes … what would I do if I were showing someone around? Why have I lived here for so long and never been to the island? Or to a TFC game? All of these things seem very important at 5am, but first sleep needs to happen immediately.