After slowly waking up in my posh Bucknell guest room (tv, wifi, shower, privacy... thanks, Betsy!), I missed breakfast, but the poets in residence packed up a fruit salad for us, and we were off to Buffalo--through the beautiful Susquehanna Valley--land of motion sickness.
We pulled up to the Albright-Knox Gallery 40 minutes before the reading. Gallery is a loose term. This is more like a largish contemporary-ish art museum. I hurried in with my good friend, box-of-t-shirts, made a wrong turn, and ran into Pollock's 8'x13' Convergence.
After the reading we went to a bar and grill near Buffalo State College for a little food, including Buffalo's specialty... the 8-inch high pile of wings.
Encounter with drunk girls in the bathroom taking phone-camera pictures of each other:
Girl1: Come on. That's enough. I want to go flirt some more.
Girl2: I really hope Carrie isn't here with Michael. That bitch stole my vocabulary. I started saying Snoogy Snoog five months ago and now she says it all the time.
We slept on the bus. Around 2am it was pouring rain and I had to pee, but we were in the middle of a parking lot. Bladder-denial would become a familiar trend, at least for a few days.
In the morning I became obsessed with this vintage DONT WALK sign. (To give you an idea, I have 10 pictures of this and no good pictures of my friends on the bus yet.)
It was still raining. While Joshua and I sat in the cargo space under the bus counting the books to prep for crossing the border (of course, they never asked us about them, but we had no idea), Anthony catches a cab to the airport. (We're sad. Monica, Monica, and Betsy get on the bus, and we try to make them feel a little less disoriented, although we all know that's impossible.)
**This all happened a week ago. We're in Boston now and off soon to Providence. More soon.**
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