Three Days to See
I received a card in the mail from my Aunt Pat this week. I always get a little more excited for my Aunt Pat's mail, because she occasionally makes very cool homemade cards. Before the whole "scrapbooking" trend blew up, my Aunt and I used to make cards from time to time. On an "Aunts Weekend" to Cape Cod in the late eighties or early nineties, we (both my Aunt Pat and my Aunt Beth) discovered embossing powder. We just about thought that was the coolest thing ever, and it went from there. My Aunt had all of these amazing tools and papers and toys for cards which all seem a bit more commonplace now since the scrapbooking trend, but they were hard won, and carefully sought out.
Regardless, this wasn't a homemade card, but it was a pretty cool piece of mail to receive, regardless. Enclosed was a typed (I've had a computer since 1982) paper I'd written when I was 12 (I very vaguely remember writing this late in the sixth grade). Enjoy it in its entirety (I will leave all typos and horrendous grammatical errors intact) below:
Three Days to See
If, by some grave disaster, I were to lose my sight in three days, I would have great difficulty in deciding what to see. Since I read the book 2010, I have thought it would be fascinating to rise to the spectacle of the oranges and reds in Jupiter. Unfortunately, it would be just shy of two years before I arrived, and I only have three days of sight.
Assuming my three days started at midnight tonight, I would immediately board a plane to Venice, Italy. While there, I'd float down it's famous canals, and enjoy the old world atmosphere. After a few short hours, I'd rent a limousine, and drive with the windows down to the capital of The Roman Empire - Rome.
In Rome, I'd enjoy the mixture of sixteenth century beauty, and modern civilization. At noon, I'd eat minestrone soup, and dine on ravioli at the original Alfredo's. While digesting my meal, I'd then take a slow walk down Rome's Main Street. Hating to break away from the endless beauty, I now would head for my last stop in Italy : Florence.
When I arrived in Rome, I had turned in my limousine, and now I would rent a blue Dodge Viper convertible. In this I would be chauffeured to Florence, being only twelve. Once again traveling the twisty roads of rural Italy, I fix every image in my brain, permanently implanting the natural beauty present it every new turn.
Once in my final destination, Florence, I'd soak up the Renaissance atmosphere. I'd go to mass at Michelangelo's famed Sistine Chapel - tourist trap though it is. Standing transfixed, I'd marvel at the beauty and detail of the artwork on the ceiling, and comment on the effect of the gaudy colors it was repainted. Once outside, I would remark to another spectator on what a shame it is that modern architecture, although sleek, is not this beautiful. The buildings have graceful, intricate and idealistic designs carves into the stone.
Pained at having to leave this unending beauty, I'd grab a snack and board my plane. Once I leave behind the twinkling lights of Italy (for it would now be dusk) I'd then enjoy the sunset from above the ground, and begin to look forward to my next day -at Key West.
Key West is rumored to have the most beautiful sunsets in the counry, even in the world. My plane would land at 3:30 in the morning, for I'd wnat to see the sunrise and set over water. At 5:15, after snatching an hour and a half of precious sleep at the hotel, I'd arrive at the beach. My sketching pad and paints are in a bag, for I'd want to paint the sunrise and the sunset. After two more days, the only accurate pictures I will be able to paint are abstracts.
Although the sunset is much more famous, I'd argue that the sunrise is spectacular. The sunset might prove to be an anti-climax compared to this.
After the sunrise, the beach began to get crowded - so I left. Until noon, I'd shop in the stores and shoppes of Key West. Knowing that I would no longer haave the luxury or privilege of prolonged gazing at art, clothes, or various crafts, this is how I'd devote ninety-five percent of my morning. I'd purchase the most beautiful things, and window shop for hours.
Alas, I'd have to break for lunch, so I'd decide to make the most of it. After inquiring upon shopkeepers, and shoppers about restaurants, I'd finally end up at the "best seafood joint in town." The delicate milky white scent carried for miles. I'd enjoy a feast for three of my senses, with the exception of my tactile sense, and my hearing. I'd savor the morsels of haddock, sole, swordfish, and a creamy New England clam chowder. This was accompanied by a colorful salad and vegetable medly. The whole meal was tantalizing to the sight, smell and taste.
My rumbling stomach well contented, I'd stroll in the directions of the docks. I'd sail into the blue-green water, planning to swim and read in the peaceful Gulf of Mexico. I'd stay to watch the sunset, not wanting to b caught in toe mob of people on shore. I'd not be disappointed by the sunset. It would be too beautiful to describe in words. Still awed, I'd dress and board the last plane of my three days.
Montreal, Quebec would be my next and last stop in my three days. Upon arriving, I'd make a beeline for The Underground City -a shopping center located beneath Montreal's downtown streets. After a few hours of non-stop shopping, I'd relax at a French restaurant on Mountain Street. Then, I'd travel to the Notre Dame Parish Church, and view the beautiful stained glass windows. Unfortunately, I'd be thoroughly exhausted, and I'd retire to any on of the many hotels. After a few hours of luxurious sleep, I'd awaken to see the Aurora Borealis. What an absolutely awesome (in the true sense of the word) spectacle. That is the only way to describe it.
Unfortunately my days of sight are almost up, and soon my world won't be beautiful, it will be black.
Jennifer Sireci
Three Days to See
If, by some grave disaster, I were to lose my sight in three days, I would have great difficulty in deciding what to see. Since I read the book 2010, I have thought it would be fascinating to rise to the spectacle of the oranges and reds in Jupiter. Unfortunately, it would be just shy of two years before I arrived, and I only have three days of sight.
For many years, 2010 was my favorite book. I think it's way fucking better than 2001, and I also think that 2001 is way confusing because it's about Saturn. But then Arthur C. Clarke was all "I'm a fool! Let's make it match the movie!" 2010, 2061 (I really liked this one too) and 3001 (which suuuuuuuuuucked) were all on Jupiter. weird.
Assuming my three days started at midnight tonight, I would immediately board a plane to Venice, Italy. While there, I'd float down it's famous canals, and enjoy the old world atmosphere. After a few short hours, I'd rent a limousine, and drive with the windows down to the capital of The Roman Empire - Rome.
In Rome, I'd enjoy the mixture of sixteenth century beauty, and modern civilization. At noon, I'd eat minestrone soup, and dine on ravioli at the original Alfredo's. While digesting my meal, I'd then take a slow walk down Rome's Main Street. Hating to break away from the endless beauty, I now would head for my last stop in Italy : Florence.
When we used to go to Disney, we'd go to the video reservation place, and make our reservations for food. We always ate in the same places: The Living Seas for lunch, and Alfredo's in Italy for dinner. We didn't eat anywhere for breakfast, because breakfast is teh suck. We probably had a churro. Actually, if I had the opportunity to eat more churros for breakfast, I would probably like it
When I arrived in Rome, I had turned in my limousine, and now I would rent a blue Dodge Viper convertible. In this I would be chauffeured to Florence, being only twelve. Once again traveling the twisty roads of rural Italy, I fix every image in my brain, permanently implanting the natural beauty present it every new turn.
A Viper? Seriously? I have no idea where this came from. No idea at all. I must have seen a picture of it at the Library or something (obviously, this was before wide spread use of the interwebs.
Love that I reminded you, dear reader, that I'm twelve.
Once in my final destination, Florence, I'd soak up the Renaissance atmosphere. I'd go to mass at Michelangelo's famed Sistine Chapel - tourist trap though it is. Standing transfixed, I'd marvel at the beauty and detail of the artwork on the ceiling, and comment on the effect of the gaudy colors it was repainted. Once outside, I would remark to another spectator on what a shame it is that modern architecture, although sleek, is not this beautiful. The buildings have graceful, intricate and idealistic designs carves into the stone.
Now might be the best time to mention that my work ethic on all research papers was undeniably shoddy. Invariably, I'd push it to the last minute, scam some sort of extension or fake that I was sick, and then make up as many facts as possible (and sources, if I had to). This sort of suspect work ethic never netted me below a B, and often got me As on some pretty important papers. And my teacher never noticed that the Sistine Chapel isn't in Rome, so I think I showed as much attention to detail as she did.
Pained at having to leave this unending beauty, I'd grab a snack and board my plane. Once I leave behind the twinkling lights of Italy (for it would now be dusk) I'd then enjoy the sunset from above the ground, and begin to look forward to my next day -at Key West.
...stunned silence.
Key West is rumored to have the most beautiful sunsets in the counry, even in the world. My plane would land at 3:30 in the morning, for I'd want to see the sunrise and set over water. At 5:15, after snatching an hour and a half of precious sleep at the hotel, I'd arrive at the beach. My sketching pad and paints are in a bag, for I'd want to paint the sunrise and the sunset. After two more days, the only accurate pictures I will be able to paint are abstracts.
Whoa, a little dark there.
I have some totally amazing ideas about "travel times." This one's my favorite, as I land at 3:30 and appear to totally just be transported immediately into my bed at the hotel. I wish I'd explored this transporting concept more. Untapped brilliance.
Although the sunset is much more famous, I'd argue that the sunrise is spectacular. The sunset might prove to be an anti-climax compared to this.
After the sunrise, the beach began to get crowded - so I left. Until noon, I'd shop in the stores and shoppes of Key West. Knowing that I would no longer haave the luxury or privilege of prolonged gazing at art, clothes, or various crafts, this is how I'd devote ninety-five percent of my morning. I'd purchase the most beautiful things, and window shop for hours.
Yeah. Like...glazed bananas. God the idea that I'd would spend ONE MORE GODDAMNED MINUTE OF MY LIFE in Key West is mindblowing, I can't even wrap my mind around the idea of wanting to go there ever again...and the idea that I'd waste one of the last days of my eyesight on this giant pile of flea ridden glazed bananas makes my heart hurt.
And don't think I haven't noticed this...Hey Kids! why speak solely in the present tense, when you can also speak in the future and past tenses AT THE SAME TIME???
Alas, I'd have to break for lunch, so I'd decide to make the most of it. After inquiring upon shopkeepers, and shoppers about restaurants, I'd finally end up at the "best seafood joint in town." The delicate milky white scent carried for miles. I'd enjoy a feast for three of my senses, with the exception of my tactile sense, and my hearing. I'd savor the morsels of haddock, sole, swordfish, and a creamy New England clam chowder. This was accompanied by a colorful salad and vegetable medly. The whole meal was tantalizing to the sight, smell and taste.
"best seafood joint in town." awesome.
My rumbling stomach well contented, I'd stroll in the directions of the docks. I'd sail into the blue-green water, planning to swim and read in the peaceful Gulf of Mexico. I'd stay to watch the sunset, not wanting to b caught in toe mob of people on shore. I'd not be disappointed by the sunset. It would be too beautiful to describe in words. Still awed, I'd dress and board the last plane of my three days.
Well, at least I had sense enough not to hang out in Mallory Square.
Montreal, Quebec would be my next and last stop in my three days. Upon arriving, I'd make a beeline for The Underground City -a shopping center located beneath Montreal's downtown streets. After a few hours of non-stop shopping, I'd relax at a French restaurant on Mountain Street. Then, I'd travel to the Notre Dame Parish Church, and view the beautiful stained glass windows. Unfortunately, I'd be thoroughly exhausted, and I'd retire to any on of the many hotels. After a few hours of luxurious sleep, I'd awaken to see the Aurora Borealis. What an absolutely awesome (in the true sense of the word) spectacle. That is the only way to describe it.
Seriously? Montreal? Also...can you even see the Aurora Borealis in Montreal? I somehow doubt it, but I figured I could get away with combining a mall and something I've wanted to see my whole life to make this one awesome day. Not a bad plan, I guess, if you can get away with it.
Unfortunately my days of sight are almost up, and soon my world won't be beautiful, it will be black.
again, a little dark there, Jennifer Lynn.
Regardless, this wasn't a homemade card, but it was a pretty cool piece of mail to receive, regardless. Enclosed was a typed (I've had a computer since 1982) paper I'd written when I was 12 (I very vaguely remember writing this late in the sixth grade). Enjoy it in its entirety (I will leave all typos and horrendous grammatical errors intact) below:
Three Days to See
If, by some grave disaster, I were to lose my sight in three days, I would have great difficulty in deciding what to see. Since I read the book 2010, I have thought it would be fascinating to rise to the spectacle of the oranges and reds in Jupiter. Unfortunately, it would be just shy of two years before I arrived, and I only have three days of sight.
Assuming my three days started at midnight tonight, I would immediately board a plane to Venice, Italy. While there, I'd float down it's famous canals, and enjoy the old world atmosphere. After a few short hours, I'd rent a limousine, and drive with the windows down to the capital of The Roman Empire - Rome.
In Rome, I'd enjoy the mixture of sixteenth century beauty, and modern civilization. At noon, I'd eat minestrone soup, and dine on ravioli at the original Alfredo's. While digesting my meal, I'd then take a slow walk down Rome's Main Street. Hating to break away from the endless beauty, I now would head for my last stop in Italy : Florence.
When I arrived in Rome, I had turned in my limousine, and now I would rent a blue Dodge Viper convertible. In this I would be chauffeured to Florence, being only twelve. Once again traveling the twisty roads of rural Italy, I fix every image in my brain, permanently implanting the natural beauty present it every new turn.
Once in my final destination, Florence, I'd soak up the Renaissance atmosphere. I'd go to mass at Michelangelo's famed Sistine Chapel - tourist trap though it is. Standing transfixed, I'd marvel at the beauty and detail of the artwork on the ceiling, and comment on the effect of the gaudy colors it was repainted. Once outside, I would remark to another spectator on what a shame it is that modern architecture, although sleek, is not this beautiful. The buildings have graceful, intricate and idealistic designs carves into the stone.
Pained at having to leave this unending beauty, I'd grab a snack and board my plane. Once I leave behind the twinkling lights of Italy (for it would now be dusk) I'd then enjoy the sunset from above the ground, and begin to look forward to my next day -at Key West.
Key West is rumored to have the most beautiful sunsets in the counry, even in the world. My plane would land at 3:30 in the morning, for I'd wnat to see the sunrise and set over water. At 5:15, after snatching an hour and a half of precious sleep at the hotel, I'd arrive at the beach. My sketching pad and paints are in a bag, for I'd want to paint the sunrise and the sunset. After two more days, the only accurate pictures I will be able to paint are abstracts.
Although the sunset is much more famous, I'd argue that the sunrise is spectacular. The sunset might prove to be an anti-climax compared to this.
After the sunrise, the beach began to get crowded - so I left. Until noon, I'd shop in the stores and shoppes of Key West. Knowing that I would no longer haave the luxury or privilege of prolonged gazing at art, clothes, or various crafts, this is how I'd devote ninety-five percent of my morning. I'd purchase the most beautiful things, and window shop for hours.
Alas, I'd have to break for lunch, so I'd decide to make the most of it. After inquiring upon shopkeepers, and shoppers about restaurants, I'd finally end up at the "best seafood joint in town." The delicate milky white scent carried for miles. I'd enjoy a feast for three of my senses, with the exception of my tactile sense, and my hearing. I'd savor the morsels of haddock, sole, swordfish, and a creamy New England clam chowder. This was accompanied by a colorful salad and vegetable medly. The whole meal was tantalizing to the sight, smell and taste.
My rumbling stomach well contented, I'd stroll in the directions of the docks. I'd sail into the blue-green water, planning to swim and read in the peaceful Gulf of Mexico. I'd stay to watch the sunset, not wanting to b caught in toe mob of people on shore. I'd not be disappointed by the sunset. It would be too beautiful to describe in words. Still awed, I'd dress and board the last plane of my three days.
Montreal, Quebec would be my next and last stop in my three days. Upon arriving, I'd make a beeline for The Underground City -a shopping center located beneath Montreal's downtown streets. After a few hours of non-stop shopping, I'd relax at a French restaurant on Mountain Street. Then, I'd travel to the Notre Dame Parish Church, and view the beautiful stained glass windows. Unfortunately, I'd be thoroughly exhausted, and I'd retire to any on of the many hotels. After a few hours of luxurious sleep, I'd awaken to see the Aurora Borealis. What an absolutely awesome (in the true sense of the word) spectacle. That is the only way to describe it.
Unfortunately my days of sight are almost up, and soon my world won't be beautiful, it will be black.
Jennifer Sireci
Three Days to See
If, by some grave disaster, I were to lose my sight in three days, I would have great difficulty in deciding what to see. Since I read the book 2010, I have thought it would be fascinating to rise to the spectacle of the oranges and reds in Jupiter. Unfortunately, it would be just shy of two years before I arrived, and I only have three days of sight.
For many years, 2010 was my favorite book. I think it's way fucking better than 2001, and I also think that 2001 is way confusing because it's about Saturn. But then Arthur C. Clarke was all "I'm a fool! Let's make it match the movie!" 2010, 2061 (I really liked this one too) and 3001 (which suuuuuuuuuucked) were all on Jupiter. weird.
Assuming my three days started at midnight tonight, I would immediately board a plane to Venice, Italy. While there, I'd float down it's famous canals, and enjoy the old world atmosphere. After a few short hours, I'd rent a limousine, and drive with the windows down to the capital of The Roman Empire - Rome.
In Rome, I'd enjoy the mixture of sixteenth century beauty, and modern civilization. At noon, I'd eat minestrone soup, and dine on ravioli at the original Alfredo's. While digesting my meal, I'd then take a slow walk down Rome's Main Street. Hating to break away from the endless beauty, I now would head for my last stop in Italy : Florence.
When we used to go to Disney, we'd go to the video reservation place, and make our reservations for food. We always ate in the same places: The Living Seas for lunch, and Alfredo's in Italy for dinner. We didn't eat anywhere for breakfast, because breakfast is teh suck. We probably had a churro. Actually, if I had the opportunity to eat more churros for breakfast, I would probably like it
When I arrived in Rome, I had turned in my limousine, and now I would rent a blue Dodge Viper convertible. In this I would be chauffeured to Florence, being only twelve. Once again traveling the twisty roads of rural Italy, I fix every image in my brain, permanently implanting the natural beauty present it every new turn.
A Viper? Seriously? I have no idea where this came from. No idea at all. I must have seen a picture of it at the Library or something (obviously, this was before wide spread use of the interwebs.
Love that I reminded you, dear reader, that I'm twelve.
Once in my final destination, Florence, I'd soak up the Renaissance atmosphere. I'd go to mass at Michelangelo's famed Sistine Chapel - tourist trap though it is. Standing transfixed, I'd marvel at the beauty and detail of the artwork on the ceiling, and comment on the effect of the gaudy colors it was repainted. Once outside, I would remark to another spectator on what a shame it is that modern architecture, although sleek, is not this beautiful. The buildings have graceful, intricate and idealistic designs carves into the stone.
Now might be the best time to mention that my work ethic on all research papers was undeniably shoddy. Invariably, I'd push it to the last minute, scam some sort of extension or fake that I was sick, and then make up as many facts as possible (and sources, if I had to). This sort of suspect work ethic never netted me below a B, and often got me As on some pretty important papers. And my teacher never noticed that the Sistine Chapel isn't in Rome, so I think I showed as much attention to detail as she did.
Pained at having to leave this unending beauty, I'd grab a snack and board my plane. Once I leave behind the twinkling lights of Italy (for it would now be dusk) I'd then enjoy the sunset from above the ground, and begin to look forward to my next day -at Key West.
...stunned silence.
Key West is rumored to have the most beautiful sunsets in the counry, even in the world. My plane would land at 3:30 in the morning, for I'd want to see the sunrise and set over water. At 5:15, after snatching an hour and a half of precious sleep at the hotel, I'd arrive at the beach. My sketching pad and paints are in a bag, for I'd want to paint the sunrise and the sunset. After two more days, the only accurate pictures I will be able to paint are abstracts.
Whoa, a little dark there.
I have some totally amazing ideas about "travel times." This one's my favorite, as I land at 3:30 and appear to totally just be transported immediately into my bed at the hotel. I wish I'd explored this transporting concept more. Untapped brilliance.
Although the sunset is much more famous, I'd argue that the sunrise is spectacular. The sunset might prove to be an anti-climax compared to this.
After the sunrise, the beach began to get crowded - so I left. Until noon, I'd shop in the stores and shoppes of Key West. Knowing that I would no longer haave the luxury or privilege of prolonged gazing at art, clothes, or various crafts, this is how I'd devote ninety-five percent of my morning. I'd purchase the most beautiful things, and window shop for hours.
Yeah. Like...glazed bananas. God the idea that I'd would spend ONE MORE GODDAMNED MINUTE OF MY LIFE in Key West is mindblowing, I can't even wrap my mind around the idea of wanting to go there ever again...and the idea that I'd waste one of the last days of my eyesight on this giant pile of flea ridden glazed bananas makes my heart hurt.
And don't think I haven't noticed this...Hey Kids! why speak solely in the present tense, when you can also speak in the future and past tenses AT THE SAME TIME???
Alas, I'd have to break for lunch, so I'd decide to make the most of it. After inquiring upon shopkeepers, and shoppers about restaurants, I'd finally end up at the "best seafood joint in town." The delicate milky white scent carried for miles. I'd enjoy a feast for three of my senses, with the exception of my tactile sense, and my hearing. I'd savor the morsels of haddock, sole, swordfish, and a creamy New England clam chowder. This was accompanied by a colorful salad and vegetable medly. The whole meal was tantalizing to the sight, smell and taste.
"best seafood joint in town." awesome.
My rumbling stomach well contented, I'd stroll in the directions of the docks. I'd sail into the blue-green water, planning to swim and read in the peaceful Gulf of Mexico. I'd stay to watch the sunset, not wanting to b caught in toe mob of people on shore. I'd not be disappointed by the sunset. It would be too beautiful to describe in words. Still awed, I'd dress and board the last plane of my three days.
Well, at least I had sense enough not to hang out in Mallory Square.
Montreal, Quebec would be my next and last stop in my three days. Upon arriving, I'd make a beeline for The Underground City -a shopping center located beneath Montreal's downtown streets. After a few hours of non-stop shopping, I'd relax at a French restaurant on Mountain Street. Then, I'd travel to the Notre Dame Parish Church, and view the beautiful stained glass windows. Unfortunately, I'd be thoroughly exhausted, and I'd retire to any on of the many hotels. After a few hours of luxurious sleep, I'd awaken to see the Aurora Borealis. What an absolutely awesome (in the true sense of the word) spectacle. That is the only way to describe it.
Seriously? Montreal? Also...can you even see the Aurora Borealis in Montreal? I somehow doubt it, but I figured I could get away with combining a mall and something I've wanted to see my whole life to make this one awesome day. Not a bad plan, I guess, if you can get away with it.
Unfortunately my days of sight are almost up, and soon my world won't be beautiful, it will be black.
again, a little dark there, Jennifer Lynn.