Bugs, and Other Slightly Relevant Stories
Sunday was my last day with my big brother, Matt. He’s moving to Europe for a few years. He’s going to Bulgaria. I’m going to Italy. I win.
He dragged me to his church, which is not my church, and then took me out for coffee with his girlfriend. And then, before I knew it, he was gone. And as I walked away with my girlfriend, it suddenly dawned on me that that was it. I said goodbye. I might not see him for a very long time.
He went to Northwestern before I did. So by the time I got to university, he was teaching in Chicago and I had someone in this big, bad world to back me up, at least a little. And now we’ve grown up and our family is not all together anymore. Poop.
Moving on. The other night I thought I saw a huge cockroach in the kitchen, rivaling the size of the Egyptian lovelies with which I cohabitated. That was a contorted sentence. Anyway, I smashed it, and it turned out to be a cricket, but my roommate scraped it off my shoe for me while I held it and said, “Ew.” Then I cleaned the legs and guts off the floor.
And the moral of the story is that Steve is a nice guy.
I’m not quite sure why I’m going to Italy. I suppose I’ve always wanted to see the place of my ancestors, and find some justification for two years of an elective that has no association with my major.
Actually, before I went to Egypt, I had this idea that I would rediscover my cultural identity. But then I found myself in the Middle East and realized that I’m American, so problem solved, right?
Then I came back and realized that, as American as Egypt made me feel, I started seeing things I don’t like about the USA. So then I don’t feel as American as I thought, although I definitely am not Egyptian. So darned if that happens again in Italy.
In some way, I think traveling like this makes “home” feel more familiar and at the same time more hostile. It means I come home to a roommate I would never have known before who scrapes a cricket off my shoe, but it also means saying goodbye to my brother. So at once I gain something beautiful but lose something I love.
It’s independence.
It’s growing up.
Somebody kill the Toys "R" Us giraffe.
He dragged me to his church, which is not my church, and then took me out for coffee with his girlfriend. And then, before I knew it, he was gone. And as I walked away with my girlfriend, it suddenly dawned on me that that was it. I said goodbye. I might not see him for a very long time.
He went to Northwestern before I did. So by the time I got to university, he was teaching in Chicago and I had someone in this big, bad world to back me up, at least a little. And now we’ve grown up and our family is not all together anymore. Poop.
Moving on. The other night I thought I saw a huge cockroach in the kitchen, rivaling the size of the Egyptian lovelies with which I cohabitated. That was a contorted sentence. Anyway, I smashed it, and it turned out to be a cricket, but my roommate scraped it off my shoe for me while I held it and said, “Ew.” Then I cleaned the legs and guts off the floor.
And the moral of the story is that Steve is a nice guy.
I’m not quite sure why I’m going to Italy. I suppose I’ve always wanted to see the place of my ancestors, and find some justification for two years of an elective that has no association with my major.
Actually, before I went to Egypt, I had this idea that I would rediscover my cultural identity. But then I found myself in the Middle East and realized that I’m American, so problem solved, right?
Then I came back and realized that, as American as Egypt made me feel, I started seeing things I don’t like about the USA. So then I don’t feel as American as I thought, although I definitely am not Egyptian. So darned if that happens again in Italy.
In some way, I think traveling like this makes “home” feel more familiar and at the same time more hostile. It means I come home to a roommate I would never have known before who scrapes a cricket off my shoe, but it also means saying goodbye to my brother. So at once I gain something beautiful but lose something I love.
It’s independence.
It’s growing up.
Somebody kill the Toys "R" Us giraffe.
posted by L at
11:10 AM
2 Comments:
Yay Luke! Safe travels!
Ooh...can I be a member of this League? I've actually thought of this title before...
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