Lost

September 30, 2017

My adventure started by getting on bus 78. I occasionally take the 78, so the route was familiar to me. I relaxed in my seat. I will admit that I had my phone with me, but it was because I wanted to listen to music. But I did put it on airplane mode so I wouldn't get any calls or use GPS. I took the time to write down the directions on where to go beforehand. They're on a small piece of paper folded up in my pocket. I feel secure.

I transferred to bus 11 at Government Square A. I made up my mind to listen to music only when I'm in familiar areas but to turn it off when I'm new territory. I notice 2 things: 1) the benches at bus stops are very uncomfortable and 2) I kept thinking back to when I would explore in California, more specifically this past summer when I was on my internship in the Bay Area. Public transportation was always my way of exploring. Oh yea, my destination is Indian Hill Trail. 

I ride bus 11 out past Walnut Hills. I crack open my Calypso Lemonade. Cheers to getting lost. I saw a street name Cinnamon. I wish I lived on Cinnamon Street. I finally reached an area of Cinci that I have not been to before. I'm filled with curiosity but I'm anxious at the same time because I don't want to miss my stop. I finally got off the bus and stopped inside a UDF. Perfect time to pee and get a bag of chips because I was starving. But I finished the chips in like 10 minutes. I followed the directions on my paper until I hit a head end. Literally. The road I was on dead ended into someone's driveway, and the road I was supposed to turn on was nowhere to be found. So I did what I usually do best, I kept walking around.

The neighborhood was really nice; decent sized homes with great front yards (one of the homes even has its front door wide open). I was definitely in suburbia. I felt safe for the most part, a little agitated that I couldn't find the trail (my original destination) but I was excited to see where else I could go. The day was ending so I had to get moving. 

Turns out I ended up in Mariemount. Mariemounte? Mariemont? The area definitely had $$$. Nice big homes. It made me want to live in a suburb in a big house and live like a white person. Ok, maybe not live like a white person, but I did have an urge to get a dog and sit on my front porch and read mystery novels. 

Random thought: It's funny how you can run into the same people on a bus ride. A couple that had gotten on the bus when I was on my way to my adventure had gotten back on the same bus when I was on my way back.

I think I know why I don't like feeling completely lost. I think it's because I don't like having no sense of control. I have to set a destination for my journey so I can "control" where I end up. I have to have directions so I can "control" how I get there. It's rare that I just let myself wonder blindly in an area in an area I don't know, unless I hit an obstacle or can't find my destination, like today. 

There's a lot of UDFs in Cincinnati.

I know I had a good adventure when my feet hurt. I didn't find the trail, but I got to see a neighborhood that I never even knew existed and it's not even that far away. If I drive. I noticed though that my mind kept wandering back to my work that I needed to get done, which confirms that I can never really let go and relax until everything that I have to do is done.

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