I have a dream.

I have a dream: that one day people from Woodsdale will decide to ride the city bus instead of turning on their car; that one day people from Woodsdale will ride the bus to go downtown Wheeling and see the beauty of the buildings, the different faces, the lovely atmosphere, the joy of walking on Chapline Street (and suddenly see a public phone), or just to ramble around trying to imagine how crowded and beautiful that place must have been during Wheeling's gloden years; that young people would be the ones making the change.

I come for a place where public transportation is something more than just a useful mean to get somewhere: the city bus is part of a routine, is a place where you can put your headphones on and look out of the window and dream, is a place where you can just look at people's faces and guess if they had a hard day, is a place where life happens.

I've learned that talking is good, but taking action is better. So, I decided to make the first step (with the right foot) and pay $1.35 to prove that it does not matter where I ride the bus, because riding the bus gives me the same peaceful feeling.
I was proud of my decision and I involved some of my (brave) friends in my project. With fear and, at the same time, excitment, we made it: it was short and not painful at all!
It just takes a little bit of will power and an adventurous spirit.

But a dream can vanish when the only person that you expect to care the most, brings you down.

When the busdriver accused us of having not payed, and being "underage", I felt like everything has been pointless. You would expect a busdriver who sees only three people (maybe four) getting on the bus every day to be happy to see new (young) faces, wouldn't you?

Well, the only things I've heard were how buses should have age limits, and how Wheeling is dangerous, because there are 'crack-kids' on McColloch (I immediately assumed that he's never been to New York, or at least to Pittsburgh). 

I felt like I had to stand up for my ideas, and so I did. Unfortunately, I spent ten minutes talking about how we only tried to do something different, better for the community, and for the environment. And I say unfortunately because apparently I was wasting my breath. In response I got a "it was nice talking to you" and a big sarcastic laugh that rumbled in the empty bus.

Thank you bus driver for this experience. I really hope you'll change your mind, because I still have that dream. Next time, I hope I'll get a better driver, or I'll just put my headphones on.

Stardust .

'What do you think of me now, so lucky, so strong, so proud?' [Jimmy E.W.]

Yes, I'm lucky. Or blessed.

I just emailed my mom, and told her how impressed I am that so many people care about me. I had tears in my eyes.

It's like if someone threw a little bit of stardust on me lately and made things so much better: I do love my friends, and believe me, it is so nice to be able to call someone a friend; I am really thinking about what I am going to do next in my life and I am so optimistic; I just love the fact that I do so many interesting things and that I'm getting A LOT out of them.

And of course, all this is happening with a little bit of help and support from all the special people that will always have a special spot in my heart.
 

The time of your life.

We all change. But when do we change? In one year, for sure. Or maybe in four months. Why not in one week?

Yes, one week to put my thoughts together. And maybe to find a path.

I wouldn't be able to do that without the right people. Who believed in me, shouted at me to make me do things, got mad at me, helped me finding myself-I still have to work on this.

My family, my friends, my other family.

Thank you for being patient-sometimes I can be MAIA THE  GREAT DISASTER.

How can you believe in the future if you don't look at the past?

A trip back to my childhood always cheers me up. When you forget how to play dollies, and tag, and hairdresser, and teacher, go to Jen's house and I promise you will learn all this again.

It was an intense break, the nostalgia was there, ready to come out-not that I didn't get enough love here!

But a mom's hug-any mom at this point!-can always help. Well, any hug can always help.

It was the most quiet New Year's I've ever had. But I enjoyed it better, I guess.

2010 was, let's say, a different year. and so will be 2011. let's hope for the best!

My soundtrack? Don't stop believin'. Journey.
FREE HUGS.