"Public Transportation is Not for Everyone."

I do believe my life will be in euro shambles for a long time to come.  I will be the first to admit that starting my internship two days after arriving here was yet another bad decision in a string of many concerning my Geneva experience thus far.  My jet lag conveniently hit me on my bus ride home from work Tuesday evening when I still had to get home and start and finish Write-On before nightfall.  Fortunately, I woke up before Bus 8 transported me across country lines, and I hopped off at the first stop in sight.  Still unfamiliar with the Genevois transit system and rather cracked out from my nap, I decided to cut my losses and try to walk home, lest I get on the wrong bus in the wrong direction (I figured my lack of a sense of direction would be much less dangerous on foot).  Not yet having had the chance for any sightseeing, I broke out the digi to keep me company and caught a few shots of the mountains.  Miracle of all miracles, 8 kilometers later I was safely back at the hostel/convent in time for choir practice.      

My aversion to public transportation grew deeper later in the week when I realized the unfortunate caliber of my French skills on a bus ride home in which an adorable 4-year old Italian girl tried to strike up a conversation with me in what was undoubtedly her second or even third language.  I thought I had gotten pretty good with just smiling and nodding when I didn't understand something, but this child was having none of it.  I'm pretty sure girlfriend was even talking smack about me in Italiano to her madre.  Commutes to and from work now find me with my iPod blaring my bad 90s music, trying not to make eye contact with anyone like a good American.