I think the term used here is, "I fail at life."

Third World and I decided to go to the War Museum today, as admission is free after four.

We left the house at about 5:00 pm. Then we stopped by the library (to pick up a reserved item,) the grocery store, (to buy some tea,) and the mall, (to buy some bus tickets.) Then we boarded our bus and headed out toward the museum. This is where things started to go not according to plan.

When we got to our stop, LeBreton 2A, we stood up, and waited for the bus driver to pull in front of the bus stop. He didn't. Instead, he drove away. Third World and I sat down next to the exit, a little wide-eyed. He then proceeded to drive past the next stop without stopping. At this time I realized that this bus went out as far as Kanata, 45 minutes into the country. *panic*

But then he stopped, and we got off the bus. Discussion insured. Should we take the next bus back, or walk to the museum? I, un-city girl that I am, said that we could walk it. "We just find the river and follow it back!" I am persuasive? We started walking through the deserted government buildings.

We reached the end of the buildings just as the sun went down. Our eyes were then greeted with a lovely vista. A highway. Wending off into the distance. Dogged stubbornness asserts its self, we shared a square of chocolate, and started down the shoulder of the highway.

Over bridges, in the dark, in an unknown area of town, with cars driving by, and no one around.

Smart college students, eh?

After a time the side of the road was not safe to walk on, as the snowwas built up into a 45 degree angle. So, we hopped over the road barrier and started wading through knee-deep snow. (by the by, this whole time we would both occasionally comment to the other person that 'I'm so glad that you're there, cause I would NOT want to do this alone.) Finally, we arrived at a side walk, *angel choir*, and walked on the blessed sidewalk the rest of the way to the museum.

We bought some soup, and sat down to rest our legs. Third World then revealed that she had been super freaked out about the many cars driving past, (what if they stopped?) and I commented that I had not been very sure about all the dark bridges we walked over, (you can't see who's in there!) Then we noticed that it was 7:00. We had been in transit for 2HOURS!

The museum its self was very good, and Third World said that she wanted to borrow my Vimy book.

The trip back was uneventful, except for the whole missing the bus bit, and realizations, after leaning on each other and falling over while waiting for the next bus, that acting drunk wasn't the best thing to be doing in a bus stop in the middle of nowhere.

We get back inside the house, Third World turns to me:

I can't believe we're still alive!

The best memories happen when things go wrong, just admit it.