Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: America, brain dump, France, Memorial Day, NPR, patriotism, Prairie Home Companion, Sarah, Shawna, Subway
As the title suggests, I’m feeling woozy at the moment. It might be because I need to sleep or eat. I just took care of the later by polishing off the other half of my Subway sammy left over from yesterday. Hope that helps. Another culprit could be the fact that I recently completed a seven page brain dump. And I still have more to go: this, le premiere miel en france, Nana, and Sarah.
While munching on my turkey-provolone, I listened to NPR as you do. A Prairie Home Companion was on the air. All of a sudden the national anthem was simply being played on the piano, and the entire audience joined together in song. It was one of those nice moments. Where you just feel this sense of contentment. I imagined people all over the country sitting in their living room, driving in their car, sitting at their computer pausing for an instance. Just to listen. I even muttered the last verse. I can be one of those apathetic teenagers [as much as it pains me] who more times than not take for granted all that they have.
Well, America, I just appreciated you. I like you. And, as funny as this feels to type, I am proud to be American.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: driving, homework, Le Petit Prince, Kentucky, lymphoma, dying, clouds, sky, road trip, Leah, car, window
I feel sick to my stomach at the moment. But I’m not physically ailing. Oy. It’s like there’s a ping pong ball ricocheting off the walls of my innards. It’s a good thing that the greater part of today was spent in a drowsy stupor/napping otherwise I’d be way more cranky about the multiple chapters of Le Petit Prince and calculus worksheet I have yet to complete.
So anyway, today my family drove to Kentucky to visit my great uncle who is essentially dying of lymphoma. I don’t see him particularly often, but I have gotten to know him well enough to recognize how feeble he had become. His skin was a mass of sunken folds grasping to bone, and he had to whet his lips and pause every couple sentences to catch his breath just to be able to talk. It is sad, but I understand–we are all ephemeral. Essentially this visit was to say goodbye. Which if you think about it is nice, but strange.
On the way home I laid my head on the middle seat between me and Leah. I witness an odd sensation as I gazed out the car window. It was simply blue skies, and I was overcome with the sense that the car was not on the tarred highway, but suspended in the air. So we floated home from Kentucky this afternoon. The picture does not do the sky justice.
