Thursday, January 7, 2010

Back Letter

Dear Private Park,
Well, it's time to go back. I promise not to run away like I've done so many times before. I promise to look interested. I promise to carry enough lunch money with me so as not to fall asleep like clock work every afternoon at 1:07 in the Beowulf. I promise not to cry so much in front of those nice people who are really only trying to help. I promise to take full advantage of all those various accommodations, the ones contained in that five hundred dollar packet that leaves out the horrible details that I'm pretty sure don't have anything to do with anything other then the temperature of the bath water.
You've been nothing but pecans to me thus far and I don't know why I'm so ruffled up, why I'm eating mountains of spaghetti at 5am in the season three of The "L" word. Guess I'm just tangled up in the unknown. Guess all my friends are having pit bulls out of their vagina's with their husbands who were adopted from Michigan as a single father cause gay marriage isn't legal anywhere in this God fearing universe. But, you're affiliated with the church too, and that's why you're so nice all the time. I get it! See, I'm learning.
I'll do great. I'm more then half way not hating it.
Thank you, thank you, good night, and good luck,

Skin and Toast

No comments:

Post a Comment