I dwell in Possibility--/A fairer House than Prose--

What has been a decent day has just turned very, very sour. Allow me to elaborate.

On 2 August, my dad is returning to Costa Rica, from whence he came. The house in which I currently reside will then be occupied by another family. The dilemma of housing me for the month remaining ere the recommencing of my studies in literature has thus far posed a bit of a problem. While worrisome, what worries more is the possible (and seemingly more likely) solution upon which my parents hit--that is, to have me spend the time remaining in the abyssal wastes of North Dakota.

And no, I'm not kidding.

I have no desire whatsoever to go to North Dakota. My relatives may live there, but I've met them all about 5 times (total, in the entire span of my life) and they're pretty much perfect strangers. Not only that, but I don't like them much. North Dakota's a pretty inbred place, and the longer you stay there, the stranger you become, and I'm not talking strange in a good way, either.
I know no one there, save my relatives, who are all older than my parents; which makes consorting with peers a problem. I would much prefer to stay here, in Muskegon--hell, I'll take just staying in the state--where I have friends and am HAPPY. (While not happy all the time, it's become a rather familiar feeling, and it's one I like. So I want to stay)

So, for those of you reading this who believe in prayer, pray for me. Hard. Very hard. The idea of moving to North Dakota makes me sick. And for those of you reading this who don't believe in prayer, set a plague loose in that godforsaken state so I won't be allowed to go there.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I'm very sorry for you. But even if I did believe in prayer, I would save it for more life-threatening occasions.
Remember, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger! And I'll always be here to comfort you if you need it ;)
-The Italian