Today, I'm going to tell a story: the time Latin Class was canceled and no one told the exchange student. I waited the entire class period and no one showed up, so I'm not sure what the deal with that was. They did have Archaeology magazines from the late eighties, so that was my consolation prize.
The rest of the day was pretty great. Two teachers passed out food because I was leaving, and some of the students actually talked to me. Amazingly, there were more than a few who were surprised to learn that a) I was in their class, and b) that I was leaving. I must have really made an impression here. After school, Rosa and I rushed to the train station, rode into town, and got her a new pair of point shoes. Then, well, after a gelato stop, her parents picked us up and I had the experience of Vietnamese food. Now here comes the interesting part, so if you're skimming, stop. To get to the Mykyta Chomsky's before nine or so at night, we had to ride the bus home. Apparently the route we needed to take was known for being a little sketchy, but we managed to get most of the way home without any incident. However, within the last fifteen minutes not only did we witness policemen patting down youths, a man on some kind of mind altering substance got on the bus and howled the ceiling. It was okay, until he got off at the same stop. But we made it home just fine, running a little bit because of the gallons of tea we had at the restaurant, but fine. Now Rosa and I are watching Doctor Who and I'm gonna make some tea. By this time tomorrow, I'll be home. Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.
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