Friday, February 28th, 2003

I'm inside the house getting ready to leave with a bunch of friends (Ethan, Susannah's mom and others). My mom was supposed to have travel documents sent to me but they hadn't arrived yet. As we head out, I ask if anyone has a car with them. No one has. Ethan says they left their rental car at their hotel. I run back inside to get a wad of money I'd stashed inside a phone book. Once outside, one of the friends spots a bus and run towards the bus stop. He and two other people are almost run down by a forklift and a dump truck. One of the two other people (a black man) grabs his white friend and they barely miss getting hit. Our friend gets his foot caught on the front of the dump truck (which keeps driving). We all yell angrily for the driver to stop. The truck finally stops and our friend free himself. The bus passes the stop and rounds the corner to pick up my friends. I run for it and squeeze myself into the back door. I'm carrying a small green pillow. the inside of the bus looks like a Greyhound.