If prides my only folly, I'm proud that I'm not proud

Dear all,

First, ten points to whoever tells me who sings those lyrics. No internet cheating please!

Next. Pride. I am way to proud. It makes a fool of me. Here is a story which proves what a proud fool I am:

One Friday last I was trying to make my way to Tbilisi. I walked from my house to the nearest off time frequent marshutka stop. (Marshutkas and their mysterious schedules are not a thing to be trifled with.) I waited patiently for a few minutes for a ride to come along. Eventually one of the white minibuses showed up, so I hopped inside. It was fantastically crowded. It started off in a direction I had never gone before. I was under the impression that the marshutka would simply drive a ways down the road, turn around, and take me to my desired destination. But that was not my fate. After about thirty minutes of driving, stopping, people getting on and off, driving, stopping, people getting on and off, driving, and so on, the marshutka came to a stop. A real stop this time. Not the previous idle. The driver had backed the marshutka into what seemed to be a shady little glen. I think it must be his normal spot. Because there was no need to park for shade, as it was raining.

At this point, I was sitting in the front seat of the marshutka, nearest the door. Here is where my pride hit me first. This was not my desired destination. I honestly had no idea where we were. The driver and most of the passengers were staring at me with this look that clearly stated, "Silly girl, she does not know where we are!" But rather than shake my head stupidly and remain seated, I bounced off the marshutka, gave the driver some money, and bounded off down a street. I almost wrote "bounded off down the street" but the article "the" would imply that I had some vauge ideas about it. But I did not. I walked down a street (it was a lovely little walk) for about fifteen minutes, at which time I did an about face and began to walk back the way I had come. I figured that I had walked long enough for most of the people to have dispersed, or that they would think I had completed an actual task. Just as I rounded the corner that gave me the first view of where the marshutka had parked, I saw it driving away.

So I walked. I walked for about an hour and a half, with my backpack and everything. I still had no idea where I was, so I just followed the road most traveled. The man in that poem had more time than I had. Anyway, at one point I can to a T in the road. I was so happy, because I recognized right where I was. But then I did not know if I should go left or right. So I swallowed that stupid pride, and asked this boy sitting on a fence which way to Savane. I am glad I asked, because he told me the opposite of the way I was inclined to go. So, eventually, I ended up back in the right place. Stupid pride.

Katie

*Mom guessed John Gorka. She was wrong. Any other guesses?