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Letter: To Neela Pendennis, Laurel Heights, CT
Dear Knee,
Let's start at the beginning: Yes, I know you hate it when I call you by that ridiculous nickname, and it's so demeaning to be shouted after like you were a loose body part. To which I give you the standard reply: I'm your big brother, so cope. At least I'm not rubbing mud in your hair and pulling your pigtails. You should be grateful.
I made it up to Massachusetts without any major tragedy, at least. It was a long train trip, but I think you would have liked it. Plenty of time for people-watching, certainly, and the chance to stretch your legs the whole time. A bit bumpier than a plane, and obviously longer, but the trade-offs were nice. Now if only it didn't cost so much compared to a flight, it might be an attractive alternative. As it is, at least when you're going so long-distance that it's more expensive than the regular commuter routes, it's more of a luxury that I would have expected. And Amtrak is nothing like the Orient Express.
It's been a little over a week, though, and I think I've settled into school here. First, the whole 'boarding school' thing is very strange. Maybe this is prep for dorm life, but I don't think so. It might be the age of the buildings, that lingering smell of decades baked into every brick and board, but it just feels archaic and strange in some way. Not that the students would help matters there. From what I can tell, we've an unhealthy mix of the overly-intellectual, the decidedly eccentric, and the rich elite. Really, all that you would expect from reading a nineteeth century boarding school drama. I'm just waiting for the headmaster to be a harsh disciplinarian, or a quiet bastion of compassionate understanding, and we'd be all set.
I wonder if they're offering Defense Against the Dark Arts next semester.
I've met some friends, too. At least, I like to delude myself into thinking they may become friends. There's Tanne, who I think you'd like. Anyone who turns their angsty rebellion against their rich and important family into actual social commentary that's worth making, and not just getting coked up and blowing money by the boatload in some dance club earns points. Of course, I don't know what I can say about her taste in men, given she's married one of the previously mentioned 'rich elite' -- rich elitist jock, even, just to compound the issue. And yes, I said married -- it's a long story. They always are, you know: controlling family, arranged marriages, and the like. It's just missing a fairy godmother and a prince charming.
There's also Dot. I know you'd like her -- she can't stand me, and doesn't see any reason to hold back from cutting me down to size any chance she gets. Clearly, I can never have the two of you meet, or you'd just give her more ammo with a gleeful little smile. That's all right; if I have anything to say about it, she's going to end up Homecoming Queen. As I do believe the young people are saying these days, "Payback is a bitch." Not that there's anything I really need to pay her back for, but I believe in preemptive strikes.
I know I joked about it being strange here, but Halloween was...there was a dance, but something happened. I'm still not certain what. I'm sorry to be so cryptic, but I'm trying to figure it out. And in the meantime, I had one new friend disappear after it, and another get hurt pretty badly. Everyone is avoiding the topic, at least with me, so it's that much harder to process. I know, I'm not being much better, I just wanted you to know that...if I was coming off a little stilted, you can probably blame it on that. I...
I miss you. And I'm worried. I'll try to explain when I can, but I don't know when that will be. I know, before you can even say it: I'll take care of myself, I promise. Things are just harder than I thought they would be here, for reasons I never expected. Maybe I'm not cut out for any pond but the familiar one, down in Miami. Wouldn't that be a depressing thought.
Anyway, I need to get back to work. I've got homework to take care of before the fundraising dinner tomorrow night (yes, I'm fundraising for a homecoming queen. Maybe it's a long way for a joke, but I'm enjoying the journey). I promise I'll come up as soon as I can to visit, as long as the doctors say it's all right. Don't let that Mary Lapinski push you around, you hear me?
Loves and noogies,
Bill
Let's start at the beginning: Yes, I know you hate it when I call you by that ridiculous nickname, and it's so demeaning to be shouted after like you were a loose body part. To which I give you the standard reply: I'm your big brother, so cope. At least I'm not rubbing mud in your hair and pulling your pigtails. You should be grateful.
I made it up to Massachusetts without any major tragedy, at least. It was a long train trip, but I think you would have liked it. Plenty of time for people-watching, certainly, and the chance to stretch your legs the whole time. A bit bumpier than a plane, and obviously longer, but the trade-offs were nice. Now if only it didn't cost so much compared to a flight, it might be an attractive alternative. As it is, at least when you're going so long-distance that it's more expensive than the regular commuter routes, it's more of a luxury that I would have expected. And Amtrak is nothing like the Orient Express.
It's been a little over a week, though, and I think I've settled into school here. First, the whole 'boarding school' thing is very strange. Maybe this is prep for dorm life, but I don't think so. It might be the age of the buildings, that lingering smell of decades baked into every brick and board, but it just feels archaic and strange in some way. Not that the students would help matters there. From what I can tell, we've an unhealthy mix of the overly-intellectual, the decidedly eccentric, and the rich elite. Really, all that you would expect from reading a nineteeth century boarding school drama. I'm just waiting for the headmaster to be a harsh disciplinarian, or a quiet bastion of compassionate understanding, and we'd be all set.
I wonder if they're offering Defense Against the Dark Arts next semester.
I've met some friends, too. At least, I like to delude myself into thinking they may become friends. There's Tanne, who I think you'd like. Anyone who turns their angsty rebellion against their rich and important family into actual social commentary that's worth making, and not just getting coked up and blowing money by the boatload in some dance club earns points. Of course, I don't know what I can say about her taste in men, given she's married one of the previously mentioned 'rich elite' -- rich elitist jock, even, just to compound the issue. And yes, I said married -- it's a long story. They always are, you know: controlling family, arranged marriages, and the like. It's just missing a fairy godmother and a prince charming.
There's also Dot. I know you'd like her -- she can't stand me, and doesn't see any reason to hold back from cutting me down to size any chance she gets. Clearly, I can never have the two of you meet, or you'd just give her more ammo with a gleeful little smile. That's all right; if I have anything to say about it, she's going to end up Homecoming Queen. As I do believe the young people are saying these days, "Payback is a bitch." Not that there's anything I really need to pay her back for, but I believe in preemptive strikes.
I know I joked about it being strange here, but Halloween was...there was a dance, but something happened. I'm still not certain what. I'm sorry to be so cryptic, but I'm trying to figure it out. And in the meantime, I had one new friend disappear after it, and another get hurt pretty badly. Everyone is avoiding the topic, at least with me, so it's that much harder to process. I know, I'm not being much better, I just wanted you to know that...if I was coming off a little stilted, you can probably blame it on that. I...
I miss you. And I'm worried. I'll try to explain when I can, but I don't know when that will be. I know, before you can even say it: I'll take care of myself, I promise. Things are just harder than I thought they would be here, for reasons I never expected. Maybe I'm not cut out for any pond but the familiar one, down in Miami. Wouldn't that be a depressing thought.
Anyway, I need to get back to work. I've got homework to take care of before the fundraising dinner tomorrow night (yes, I'm fundraising for a homecoming queen. Maybe it's a long way for a joke, but I'm enjoying the journey). I promise I'll come up as soon as I can to visit, as long as the doctors say it's all right. Don't let that Mary Lapinski push you around, you hear me?
Loves and noogies,
Bill
