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[May. 10th, 2008|04:26 am] |
Oh, Mama...
You wouldn't believe what was going on around here. Things are definitely different from Utica. So far I've met someone who can change shapes, swore I saw a ghost from the corner of my eye, and met an angel. Wings and all. Oh, and Mama, he's incredible. We get along like a house on fire, honest.
Meanwhile, it's colder than a witch's tit in a brass brassiere (there are real witches here too, apparently, so maybe I ought to stop saying that), just like you said it'd be up North. I've been shopping for warmer clothes, but even that might not take the chill from my bones. Oh, and furniture, too. It's not like I've been a bump on a log, I did end up getting that job. I've just been... preoccupied. Meeting people and such.
Give Daddy my love.
Irene |
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[Apr. 17th, 2008|03:52 pm] |
I can't get over how quaintly perfect this town is. Or how dumb I feel for writing in a journal again. Am I fourteen? So I think I'm going to address these to Momma. Whether I send them to her is another story. So, here goes.
Dear Momma,I've been in Mysteria for a few days now, and it's nothing like what I thought. For one thing, everyone talks so fast. It's hard for me to understand them sometimes. But I manage to get along. I haven't really met anyone I'd consider a friend. I don't even think I've 'met' anyone, unless you count the pleasantries I exchanged with the kid who bagged my groceries... But I have secured an interview in a few days. Keep your fingers crossed for me, or I might end up working with that kid, bagging groceries.
Have I mentioned things are different here than back at home? I don't think I can emphasize that enough. But that doesn't mean it's all bad... For instance, there's a witch here who advertises her powers. It's like she doesn't even care if people know. And no one seems to care... Maybe I can finally be myself...
It's late, Momma, so I'm going to bed. I miss you. So, so much. Of course, you already knew that. Love,
Irene
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