Appalling.
And then the rest of the bus ride I was trapped between watching couples engage in nervous and listening to Heather talk about shaving her lady parts. I thought that was going to be as bad as it got, but, no, when we got back to the hotel I had to watch Heather straddle the toilet and trim her pubic hair with Keira’s razor. I think I stared at her like she was a mutant species. She took it in stride, though.
“You wanna use this razor when I’m done, Danielle?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks.”
I am having a hard time finding common ground with any of these people.
POSTCARD #2 to Aunt Joyce
Dear Aunt Joyce,
I am learning a lot more than just stuff about England. I will fill you in when I get back because I don’t want random mail people reading the personal junk about my life.
Love you,
Danielle
*CLASS ASSIGNMENT* 3/7
Journal #3 of the England Trip
(Covering day 5 of the trip. I have a lot to say to Ms. Harrison. A.)
Danielle Levine
English 12
Ms. Harrison
Period 4
Today began with a visit to Westminster Abbey, which is a place I just love. It’s beautiful. Famous writers are buried there, and I love to stand in the writers’ corner and soak in the intelligence buried there. You can feel it.
You know what? I can’t focus on writing about the Abbey and the other stuff we did today, because, well, I just have to get something off my chest. I want to tell you the truth about something embarrassing that I did. You are my teacher, and I think you are a pretty smart lady about facts and stuff and also about feelings. So I am going to risk being honest here and just hope it falls on the compassionate ears I think you have.
I know I fell behind when we visited Big Ben and, because I didn’t stay with the group, I wasn’t with everyone when you did a head count on Downing Street. I know you were mad, and you had a right to be. Your job on this trip is hard and we shouldn’t make it harder. I just want to tell you why I fell behind. You can still be mad, but maybe you’ll understand a little.
By the time we got to Big Ben after taking the boat ride on the Thames, seeing the Crown Jewels, and watching the boys do handstands on the Tower Bridge, the sun was starting to set. It was very beautiful to me. The sky was gray, but streaks of orange offset it and I just kept staring, and I got lost in that staring instead of listening to the tour guide. When my eyes came back to earth, they fell on a young couple standing in front of the clock. Maybe you saw them. He was wearing tight black jeans with a sweatshirt, his hood down to reveal thick black hair to his shoulders. A chain dangled over his jeans pocket and his shoelaces were untied. He was cute, Ms. Harrison, he really was. His cuteness wasn’t all about his looks, either. It was very much about what he was doing and the way he was doing it, standing next to Big Ben.
He was with his girlfriend (well, I guessed she was his girlfriend), and he was kissing the life out of her. (I really hope it is okay that I am writing this to you. I really want to.) He was giving her one of those kisses that you see in movies or read about in books, where I pretty much think the whole rest of the world disappeared for him, even the majesty of that big clock behind him. And, see, that was part of what really mesmerized me. He was having a timeless moment under the biggest symbol of time on the planet. (As an English teacher, I am sure you already thought of that irony as you read this before I even mentioned it, but still I wanted to tell you that I got it.)
His girlfriend looked just like Juno, except she wasn’t pregnant. Well, truthfully, I couldn’t really know that. Maybe she was and that’s why they were kissing the way I saw. I am sure making a baby together can inspire that kind of kissing. But she wasn’t visibly pregnant is what I’m saying. She was just really, really cute and smart looking with short dark hair and tiny thighs like Juno, like a British Juno because she was pretty pale, and