I am a natural romantic.

Meaning, I like to do things because they seem symbolic. Because they seem so meaningful. And I have a tendency to rationalize a wrong decision as a…way to learn, an experience.

For the longest time at Berkeley, I had dreamed of seeing how far I could go on a bus. As in, I would take a random line, get off, get another bus, just keep traveling until I felt like turning around. The randomness appealed to me.

Because I had no class today, I was very bored. Knowing that nobody else was really around, I decided to check out Southside Works on my own. I took the 61 downtown, then figured out to take the 51c to Southside. Unfortunately, it started turning on 20th from Carson, so I immediately got off at the next stop. I walked several blocks down to the Southside Works. Unfortunately, it was very barren. I went into the Forever 21 and it was so empty compared to its California\’s counterparts. But on the way back..oh that was interesting. I decided that I would take any bus that seemed to go downtown.

The first bus that came was the 54c and it seemed familiar. I remember taking the 54c from the strip, so it must be right. So laying faith in that the bus would get me back to Oakland, I started reading the new cookbook I purchased. Then suddenly I looked up and realized I was…somewhere else. There were rundown houses around me and not to be \”racist\”, there seemed to be more people from the working class on the bus. I felt a slight increase of panic in myself, but I decided to lay faith in the bus line. The bus kept winding around these deteriotating neighborhoods. Suddenly, the bus driver called out, \”Last stop.\”

A young Asian girl with her forever 21 bag and ipod earphones wandering around Pittsburgh in the evening? Yeah. I asked the bus driver how I could get back to Squirrel Hill. He muttered something about how I was on the wrong bus and I reluctantly got off. I was at a T station called South Hills Junction. I nearly swore to myself, thinking how I ended up in the wrong side of Pittsburgh. But the romantic in myself thought great experience! see what\’s around here to explore!. Needless to say, there was nothing except barren hills.

In my beginning sulky mood, I went to the T stop and studied the map. I figured out which side of the platform I should wait on and plopped myself on the bench, continuing to listen to music on my ipod. Music made everything better. For the next 10 minutes, I paced around in anxiety, wondering if I will be stranded in the middle of Pittsburgh. And finally the T came and I got off at the Steel Center building, remembering that I took the T with Helen last year at that stop. I left the station and then started wandering the streets. Note, this is Pittsburgh so the downtown was nearly barren. I felt out of place, with my \”trendy\” necklace, black capris, Reef flip flops as I wandered up and down Grant Street. Eventually, I spotted the Kaufmann\’s. But the buses going to Squirrel Hill weren\’t on Forbes, because that\’s where I initially got off. I wandered around, feeling the masculine i know where i am, i don\’t want to ask for directions grow. And within minutes, I found the appropriate stop. I stumbled home at my stop, tripping over UPitt students who wore too much perfume and on a big pothole in the sidewalk outside my house.

Then I made fried rice as my stomach was grumbling in irritation.