June 15, 2009
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Color-ado
I am sitting at my cousin’s computer with my notebook of notes on my life the past…days.
And no real desire to really write it.
Maybe i should just go off on a tangent.
write whatever comes to mind.Rachel Ray magazines in the bathroom.
I was told to drink a lot of water due to the altitude (i’m sitting a mile higher than you). i have followed directions very well. And so i look at the Rachel Ray magazines in the bathroom.
i tend to like anyone that has my name.it is a whole other world inside those pages. A lot like Boulder, Colorado. the whole “20 something” idea of America.
it is very pretty. very pretty, and i like it.
i like looking at it on the pages of the magazine in the bathroom.
the houses with their matching furniture. their mouth-watering food. their entertainment. their pretty shoes.but it feels so very far away from me.
i look at the pages, maybe get some ideas, but then i close the magazine, flush the toilet, and wash my hands.A friend was showing me his apartment. We went up the steps and i see the grass around the apartment and it is all i can do from taking off my sandals and sliding my feet around in it. it is gorgeous.
And i am the kind of girl that says things like “WOW! your grass is amazing!”
and people dismiss me as being the slightly-weird-girl-but-we-will-humor-her.Because in Brasil, grass is only for rich people. i only know a couple people who have grass, and it is inside a BIG wall. jail grass.
This spring/summer i have repeatedly stopped and smelled when i pass someone cutting grass. because it is such a delightful smell. and i never smell it in Brasil.
And so my friend, showing me his apartment, thinks i am a grass-a-holic. And then i saw the little trashcan with little doggy poop baggies. and i got really quiet. because i am all for nice grass and personal responsibility for picking up your doggy’s leftovers. but…
it just feels so far away.
