Shades of mediocrity
Catch THAT reference, Lucas!
...oh yeah. You're in Nova Scotia.
Never mind.
I'm writing from Texas. Texas is beautiful. There's unusual wildlife everywhere (my favorites are the armadilloes) and lots of greenery but none of the trees get taller than about eight feet. My family is wonderful: hilarious, hispanic and often annoying. I turned sixteen, which is scary. Everyone gave me presents they wanted for themselves, except for Renata, who gave me a pocketknife that looks like a Harley Davidson fender, purchased at the Motorcycle Museum where we ate lunch. I NEED a motorcylce. NOW.
I've been apathetic for most of the trip, which is unlike me; usually I have more energy and passion than I know how to handle. The only thing I feel out here is lonely and a bit powerless. Anyway after complaining about headaches all week and not being heard my uncle Oscar (a doctor) finally took my temperature and realized that I had a fever. They stuffed a bunch of Tylenol down my throat and gave me lots of food.
I have been vegetating lately. Most of my time is spent lying around, either in the house, the hammock, the car (invariably with one or two cousins piled on my lap), the beach (which has no sand), and various burger restaurants. When I'm not lying around, I'm eating tomatoes, chicken hot dogs or macaroni and cheese, the only semi-vegitarian foods out here. My Abuelita made menudo, too, but I decided not to eat it when I found out it was made of chopped chicken intestines and livers. My mom tutted and said it was good for me, like chicken soup. I made a bowl of macaroni and ate it as slowly as I could until the menudo was all eaten up.
The people are really nice here. The accents are great. I miss Harry a lot, though, and calling him from here involves walking through and empty playground every night and dialing about four times before I get through and scaring away the cats that live under the porch. It's a lovely place, though. We rented this big houes for the whole family and we still have so many people that we end up sleeping in tents on the porch or on the floor in sleeping bags. Nobody minds. We watch movies that my uncle projects onto a window screen every night and set off fireworks, since everyone brought more than they needed. Went to a rodeo a few days ago. Texan stuff. Got affected (effected?) by the heat and had to stumble in and drink three glasses of icewater. Read My Antonia, The Supernaturalists, Artemis Fowl 4, The History of Spider-Man (again), The Death of a Salesman and the first half of the Ovid I brought. Hummingbirds everywhere. Am afraid of lapse into suburbia and mediocrity more than of death. Wear same clothes for days at a time. No control over life. Being forced to leave. Can't wait to be back in city. Love to all.
...oh yeah. You're in Nova Scotia.
Never mind.
I'm writing from Texas. Texas is beautiful. There's unusual wildlife everywhere (my favorites are the armadilloes) and lots of greenery but none of the trees get taller than about eight feet. My family is wonderful: hilarious, hispanic and often annoying. I turned sixteen, which is scary. Everyone gave me presents they wanted for themselves, except for Renata, who gave me a pocketknife that looks like a Harley Davidson fender, purchased at the Motorcycle Museum where we ate lunch. I NEED a motorcylce. NOW.
I've been apathetic for most of the trip, which is unlike me; usually I have more energy and passion than I know how to handle. The only thing I feel out here is lonely and a bit powerless. Anyway after complaining about headaches all week and not being heard my uncle Oscar (a doctor) finally took my temperature and realized that I had a fever. They stuffed a bunch of Tylenol down my throat and gave me lots of food.
I have been vegetating lately. Most of my time is spent lying around, either in the house, the hammock, the car (invariably with one or two cousins piled on my lap), the beach (which has no sand), and various burger restaurants. When I'm not lying around, I'm eating tomatoes, chicken hot dogs or macaroni and cheese, the only semi-vegitarian foods out here. My Abuelita made menudo, too, but I decided not to eat it when I found out it was made of chopped chicken intestines and livers. My mom tutted and said it was good for me, like chicken soup. I made a bowl of macaroni and ate it as slowly as I could until the menudo was all eaten up.
The people are really nice here. The accents are great. I miss Harry a lot, though, and calling him from here involves walking through and empty playground every night and dialing about four times before I get through and scaring away the cats that live under the porch. It's a lovely place, though. We rented this big houes for the whole family and we still have so many people that we end up sleeping in tents on the porch or on the floor in sleeping bags. Nobody minds. We watch movies that my uncle projects onto a window screen every night and set off fireworks, since everyone brought more than they needed. Went to a rodeo a few days ago. Texan stuff. Got affected (effected?) by the heat and had to stumble in and drink three glasses of icewater. Read My Antonia, The Supernaturalists, Artemis Fowl 4, The History of Spider-Man (again), The Death of a Salesman and the first half of the Ovid I brought. Hummingbirds everywhere. Am afraid of lapse into suburbia and mediocrity more than of death. Wear same clothes for days at a time. No control over life. Being forced to leave. Can't wait to be back in city. Love to all.
posted by VVM at 1:37 PM
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