Living in Exile...I mean Newton.

My room is way more stylishly decorated than this, if you were wondering.
And my bed is more than a platform.

Wake up in the mornin' feelin' like P-Diddy...who woke up late and is scrambling to get to his 9:00 AM class. Yeah, you might think this happens to every college kid, and it does, but in order for me to scramble to class, I have to scramble to the bus before I have any hopes of effectively scrambling anywhere.

No sir, I live on Newton--the place of banishment for Boston College.

It would be one thing to take the bus every morning if it crashed through my wall. But no, that would bely some semblance of convenience. You're in Newton, remember? It's a world devoid of any and all commodity.

Wait, that's a lie, our rooms are bigger by about 2 square feet.

                                                                                                           Fuck yea.

And you can be mistaken for a Law student?

                                                                                                     Probably not.
And Stuart food is better than Mac, right?
                                                                                                             Maybe.


Regardless, we still have to traverse that damn 1.3 mile gap to class every day, and since I live in the ghetto of the ghetto of Newton, my daily journey to class is especially arduous. Yes, a shout-out to you, Duchesne.

On a soon-to-be-related note, my friends and I are really psyched to see "Suckerpunch."

Ouch. He looks like he was already hurtin'

Every time I see that trailer I am somehow reminded of my commute in the images I see...

Ok, maybe it's not like jumping in a 15 foot arc, dodging a hailstorm of bullets, as a girl, readying to deal a fatal blow to a giant, murderous Transformer-Newton-Bus. But it's tough.

The hill next to my building is deceptively steep.

Then you pray to every god of every religion (just to cover your bases) that there's a bus there. And then, since there usually isn't, you wait.

And wait.

And wait. 

And wait.

And then the bus finally comes and it's like trying to fit into a rush hour train in Tokyo.

But we don't even get to have strangers grope us as they try to pack us in there like sardines.

Everyone's all bumping against one another, it's hot, someone's breakfast always stinks up the whole place, and unless you're fortunate enough to be with someone else, you're forced to do the awkward-eye-contact-dance with no fewer than 20 people.

And then you get there. Finally, you've made it out of that Hell on wheels.

And you're still 5 minutes late.

Ugh.

D