mood: I miss the mountains (that is, glorified hills, Sam...)
music: Pink Floyd
random word: peanut butter (2 words, I know but if you write them separately they mean something totally different: peanut and butter.)

---

So mumkin the first thing I thought of upon seeing that picture of the Ear Candle that Ali sent us all (I'm serious, first thing to cross my mind)...

Pinocchio chops of nose and attempts to smoke it, chosing his ear over his mouth so as to avoid lung cancer.

Not entirely sure if that would be effective or not, but hey, I could make a lot of money if it is.

Warning: all those looking to be entertained by exciting news should stop reading right about...here...no wait, that was kind of entertaining...I'd say you wanna stop...here. haha. Or here would work too. Ok, now I'm serious. Stop right here.

I am still waiting to hear from work. I supposedly got an internship at the Hartford Steam Boiler, where my dad works (I know you're thinking it, I'm going to drive trains! Sweet! Sadly, no. But if I were to I would totally want Michael and Jack to jump on (and off) MY train!!!) Allow me to provide one further detail to clarify what I will be doing in this internship...location: Hartford, CT. Ah yes, now I see that spark of realization in your eye, well in Dan Kelley's at least. Although he already knew about it so I don't really see any sparks but for the sake of the narrative let's say I did see a spark. Willing suspension of disbelief, people! For those of you that don't know, Hartford is the Insurance Capitol of the world. All businesses in Hartford=insurance companies.

Moving on...

They contacted my dad on Wednesday to let him know that I passed the background check. Phew! I was so worried that they'd find out about that bank I robbed. Or that guy I killed. Or those drugs I stole. And then sold. And then bought back. And then took. Right. So now they're supposed to call me about a start date. I would think they would want me to start on Monday but I haven't heard from them yet. Bummer. If they wait too long, I'll be out of the country. Sad. Also, true. Also, scary.

Which brings me to the only other major thing on my current agenda: finding means of transportation to Uruguay. I say "means of transportation" because at this point I'm still pretty open to offers from anyone who may own a private jet or a train. Or a yacht. Or a bus. Or a car. Or a motorcycle. Or a bicycle. Or a tricycle. Or a unicycle. Or a sailboat. Or a canoe. Or a skooter (motorized or not). Or a skateboard. Or a reindeer. Or a winged horse. Or a donkey...

In other words, I found a flight but can't get it by my mom. Both my dad and I talked to this travel agent and the best deal we can get is $1500 roundtrip. Roundtrip, now there's another problem. I have to have a roundtrip booked in order for border control to let me into the country. But you can't book a flight more than 330 days in advance and I am going for a year (365 days for the non-mathematicians. It's ok, I spent the first semester of my geometry class thinking there were 365 degrees in a circle. These things get confusing.) So I have to book an open return date. The problem is that about a month ago, my mom had talked to my uncle who supposedly found a flight for $500. One way. So my mom figures it's $1000 roundtrip. Logical, I guess. Only it doesn't work that way. My uncle had talked to the same travel agent that is quoting me at $1500, and she swears that's the cheapest we'll get. Regardless of the date and city of departure.

My mom doesn't believe me. Last night, she asked me to print off my school calendar for next year. I attempted to obey. Except in addition to messing up our internet, my brother also managed to break our printer. So I copied it down by hand. By the time I brought it out to show my mom, she had already decided on her next course of action, one that would be certain to cause further annoyance and tension with no solution to the problem. A perfect plan: total aversion. I'm sure that to a bystander it would actually have been quite amusing. There's me trying way too hard to be calm, collected, mature, even professional. There's my mom sauntering around the kitchen pretending not to see me. So I finally ask her if it would be alright to call her at work tomorrow and discuss the matter so I can book the flight. Motivation: the longer I wait, the more it's going to cost. At last, I become visible! She turns to me and, mustering her best "matter-of-fact" tone, says "I don't know, maybe." Which means no. Which also reminds me of my best friend in, let's see...ah yes, kindergarten! "I don't know, maybe" was right up there with "guess what!" as a lead-in to every sentence.

I'm realizing that I'm probably going to feel incredibly guilty about this post right about as soon as I hit the "publish post" button. (P.S. funny side-note: I just read over that last sentence and realized that instead of typing "as" I'd accidentally typed "ass." Oh, Freud.) But yeah, so as a disclaimer I'd like to add that I really do love my mom and life doesn't suck nearly as much as I make it out to. This has been more of a reflection of my frustrations than of anything else. So disregard the negative energy being flung at you; know that I love you all very much and miss you terribly. And that I am using this blog as an outlet. Clearly.

Besos y abrazos wa hub katheer,

Cata