letters

Dear construction workers,

You are especially obnoxious when I am on my way to my internship, wearing heels and a skirt. I wish I didn't have to stand in front of you for TEN MINUTES as I waited for my bus. I know it may come as a shock, but I can actually understand what you're saying about me.


Dear internship,

Our days are numbered. I'm leaving you in two short weeks. I'm sorry if this comes as a shock, but you're mind-numbingly boring and it's time for me to move on. Someday you'll find another intern who makes you very happy.


Dear Mancha,

I don't care how much my host dad likes you. You are a devil cat. I don't know how you always figure out how to open the door by yourself -- but if you jump on my face and wake me up one more time, I will throw you out the window. Also, I don't appreciate the cat hair all over my black skirt.


Dear man who stopped and asked me for directions to somewhere in Vitacura this morning,

I'm sorry I was so unhelpful. My knowledge of Santiago geography is limited to my bus route. Thanks for smiling and nodding even though it was painfully obvious that I am not a true chilena.


Dear Thanksgiving,

This is the first year I haven't been at home to enjoy you. Try not to miss me too much. It's strange to think about skipping you (and spending the day at my internship instead, gross) but I think I'll use the beach to numb my pain.


Dear United States,

I hope you're getting ready for my imminent return.