Last weekend, I went back home to New York. The visit itself was fun -- I saw some high school friends I haven't seen in a while, and it was nice to spend some time with my family. Unfortunately, I had the misfortune of taking a Greyhound bus back to State College on Monday. When I arrived at the bus terminal, I was told that they had oversold tickets for my 1:30 p.m. bus and that I would not be able to leave New York until 5 p.m.

When I finally boarded a bus after three excruciating hours of standing in the Port Authority, things did not get much better. This huge, fat guy (and I mean huge -- the guy made Ruben Studdard look like a Weight Watchers model) sat down next to me, and he smelled of tuna fish. Realizing that I would not be able to sleep through this dreadful ordeal and that I had to write a column for today's Venues, I took out my notebook and started writing down whatever thoughts popped into my head.

So here they are, my musings from inside a Greyhound bus:

Am I the only one who hardly goes to the movies while the semester is in session? Back in high school, I saw practically every movie that came out. Hell, I even saw B.A.P.S. when it debuted. I guess there are reasons for this change of behavior, and while I'd like to attribute it to a heavier workload or a newfound love of reading, I think it's because they don't serve beer in movie theaters.

Why does State College seem to get its pop music two months after the rest of the world does? When I went home to New York for winter break, all I would here on the radio was 50 Cent. I came back to State College in January, and no one had heard of him. But a few weeks later, "In Da Club" was once again in my ears as a popular party song in Happy Valley. If the world really has grown smaller with the development of technology, how come we can't get our bad new pop songs all at the same time?

Is it an unwritten rule that you have to pregame earlier as a sophomore than you did as a freshman? This year, it seems like all my friends are starting their weekend festivities around 8 p.m. When we were freshmen, we rarely started before 10 p.m. Maybe it's because we're now college veterans, who don't have the time or the patience to wait until a later hour. Or, more likely, all the stuff they said about alcohol and addiction is actually true. Uh oh.

Am I the only one who finds himself spending more time talking about all the work I have than actually doing it? Having spoken to quite a few people, I know I'm not the only one guilty of this shameful practice. What's sad is that there's so much time we probably waste complaining about work, time which could be spent doing more positive and productive things. Like drugs.

If there was some sort of apocalyptic disaster that destroyed all of our technology, would any of us be able to survive? I know I wouldn't. I'd have no idea how to start a fire or build a makeshift hut. Hell, I don't think I could even plan a night out without my cell phone and AOL Instant Messenger. Maybe I should take some time off from school and enroll in a survivalist/naturalist course -- wait, forget about that. I just remembered that there aren't any Starbucks in the woods.