People Watching

I really enjoy people watching. Not that I'm a stalker, but sometimes it's incredibly rewarding to just observe other people. Right now, for instance, I'm on a bus heading to the airport. A mother and her two daughters just got on at a mall. The curious thing about them is that they appear to be the stereotypical southern family: stringy hair, always trying to make themselves more beautiful, but generally content with themselves. They're very friendly, though, as is the bus driver. I can tell the driver does this shift regularly by the way that she knows more than half of the passengers that come on and off by name. Back to the family, it makes me wonder where, at 8:00 AM, they came from and where they are going. It does not seem like they are going to school, as they don't have backpacks. Do schools get this Friday off too? I guess it's only a real-world situation where people only take Thursday off for Veterans day.
Another girl just came on. She looks like she's in middle school, talks like she's from Texas, but has the maturity of an adult. (Just as I was typing this, she mentioned a Texas area code, which makes me think that she is actually from there, as opposed to the other family who appear to just be Woodland-ites) She obviously has become accustomed to West Coast society, where the social scene permits anyone to speak as if they were from the ghetto without needing to be in a minority. For example, when talking to the bus driver about cell phone plans, she mentioned that the plan her parents wanted to set up "fuckin' ain't worth shit." It always amazes me what people do and how they change when they attain different levels of independence. I don't really know why it is, but I think the amount of independence one receives -- rather, the amount of dependence on oneself that is required -- as a child is one of the most influential factors on that person.
We just went to the other side of the 113 and the fog here is very thick. I hope it won't impair the airport.
Earlier, we were leaving the mall and I noticed a very funny sign. It was on the other side of the street, said "one way", and pointed to the left. But it was a two way street. There was a divide between the sides of the street, but not a major one. So we turned right anyway. It was a pointless sign. At the next stoplight, there was a sign that showed how each of the two lanes could turn one way or the other, yet right next to that sign was another: "one way." I was amused. I wanted to take a picture, but alas, no such brevity came.
I'm pretty excited to be going home, but I'm glad it's only for the weekend. I really enjoy Davis, but I am very glad to get to see my family before this next week. I'm really glad to see that my has passed and is living past her mother's age. Despite everything, she really is a good woman.
I just had the oddest experience sitting in the airport. I was sitting, looking out at the planes, and an elderly couple sat down next to me. There were other open seats, but for some reason, they chose those seats. I had the strangest urge: I wanted to ask them about their history. I was curious to hear how they met, what their lives were like before they met, and how their lives have changed since they've been together. It was weird. I wanted to know about them for no real rhyme or reason. Not sure what to make of it, but I didn't ask them.
Now I'm home. Should be fun!