Dear Mom and Dad,
It’s different up here. They call it the “windy city,” but nothing compares to the ocean breeze. I’m sure you two are sitting out on your boat, sipping margaritas, and waiting for the sun to set so you can snuggle up next to the fan for a romantic night. I never knew how much I admired you two until this week. I went out to the bar last night and thought I’d find myself a husband. No such luck. Things were bad from the get-go. I was the only one in cut-offs and flip-flops. And not a single girl had a real flower in her hair, except me. I knew I must be a breath of fresh air to look at. Their clothes were so scanty! I guess I’ll have to wear my bikini top and tight jeans next time I go out so I fit in. A handsome man walked up to me and I immediately thought, “this is ‘the one!’” He asked me what I wanted to drink, but when I told him a strawberry margarita, he laughed and walked away. What a jerk! A girl next to me informed me that they didn’t make those at the bar. Mr. Handsome could have simply said that. Oh well.
I was driving to work the next morning. The light was yellow, so I slowed down. Suddenly there were horns honking and fender benders all around me. One rough looking gentleman started waving his middle finger at me. I waved back and he started to swear, so I covered my ears. It was my first day, so I thought I’d wear a nice skirt. I wore the green one because the grass falls below my knees and I felt that length was appropriate. My boss must have allergies because he told me to put on some “real” clothes; my skirt was making him sick. (I didn’t know anyone was allergic to grass!)
One of the girls I met last week invited me to a birthday party. She called it a pool party so I threw on my swimsuit and headed over. When I got to her house, there was not a pool in sight. She meant we would be playing pool. I was so embarrassed.
I don’t know what to do. Back home people are too laid back. No offense to you, of course, but that drives me nuts! Nobody gets out or does anything social. A party consists of martinis on the boat, which is the same as the everyday routine. A dip in the ocean, a nap in the hammock, blah, blah, blah. I can’t take it. Then there’s Chicago: “Look at me! Look at me! Go! Go! Go!” I feel like I don’t fit in anywhere. But don’t worry about your little girl. About the time you get this note, I will be on the road again! Mom. Dad. I’m headed to the mountains! Wahooo!! Wish me luck!
Love,
Your Daughter