On the Midnight [Bus] to [Shaolin]....

I think I need to go to military bootcamp. I hear they only allow you five or so hours of sleep and somehow you manage to get used to it. That's what I've been managing, on a good day maybe six hours, but last night was yet another where I found my way to an express bus around midnight and began the journey home.

Being it was so late I figured the bus would be close to empty and quite, apparently somewhere in God's plan for me there's a loophole about serenity that I'm not involved in. As I boarded the super crowded bus that had maybe five vacant seats, I was quickly met with the loud chatty voices of what sounded like all the passengers. Why would you possibly be so ready to chat endlessly after a long day in the city? As I wondered this I began to realize something else... 90% of the people on the bus were Russian.

There I was, tired as all hell, wishing I could grab a few minutes of zzz's, but surrounded by a loud chatter in an indistinguishable dialect. Granted, I think it had less to do with them being Russian than it did with the fact that they all seemed to know each other. Which lead me to wonder what in the world goes on in the city so late at night that has crowds of Russian people heading home at midnight? If I had the energy and mental capacity I may have stopped to ask someone, but instead I closed my eyes, turned on my Ipod and tried drifting away. (DISCLAIMER- nothing against Russians, God only knows if the bus had been filled with my Puerto Ricans there may have been instruments playing to accompany the verbal noise level).

Just as my Ipod got loud enough to drown everything else out, I felt something nudging my leg. I kept my eyes closed and nudged back, it didn't budge. I opened my eyes and saw that it was the leg of the man sitting next to me. I quickly absorbed the situation at hand, noticing that he was totally breaking the personal space line created by the division of the seats. What was clearly my side of the bench was overlapped by a quater of his body. I stood my ground and continued to hold my leg in place against the weight of his. I closed my eyes and kept my leg strong, until the idea of his nasty leg rubbing up on mine totally grossed me out and I relented. Pulling my right leg closer to my left, I inched away from him... Only to feel his leg cross further into my territory and push, once again, against mine. I was then hit with a combo feeling of pissiness, fear and being grossed out. I'll punch someone before I'll curse them out and start a scene, and I didn't think starting a fight on the bus would prove helpful. (Side note- once, at a club a dude kept trying to grind up on me from behind, even when i repeatedly moved away from him. Instead of yelling at him I elbowed him in the nose and saw him run off to the bathroom craddling it.)

Not soon enough we reached Staten Island and I got up to get off the bus. Why did this dude get up too? That's when I started to panic. As I got off the bus I waited to the side to let him start walking away first. He turned the same corner I had to in order to go home. Allowing him a quarter of a block space ahead of me, I walked home nervously and wondered who I could call at that hour to talk me through the journey home. Right at that moment by friend Carlos texted me something about a random Wendy's and I called him back immediately. As we chatted I watched the weirdo walk in front of me and turn his head around to look back at me once in a while. I was finally able to exhale when he continued straight as I turned the corner.

Was I overreacting the whole time? Who knows, but I made sure to scrub the area of my pants that he rubbed his leg on with shout stain remover.

In lighter news, Imani's baptism was last Sunday- thank the good Lord for that one Candice, I think mom was ready to kick both our asses if we didn't get it done. The little Diva had her screaming moments in church but for the most part she was her normal little angel with a touch of diva, self.

Prior to becoming a princess

Transforming into a princess

Finally a princess

The princess train doesn't stop with Imani

Now it's DIVA time, I wonder where she gets it from...

See how Imani is really Candice's minime and not mine?