How Old Am I Again?

Now, I always knew I was short, but I had always thought it was pretty clear I was older than a 10 year old. Or so I thought until I came to America. Me and my family go out to eat a lot what with living in a hotel and all, and recently I've been asked a lot whether or not I would like one of those menus that come with crayons so that you can color them. Tonight was the 3rd night in a row ... maybe I'm just not dressing my age, or maybe I look like the artsy type, but I still thought people would be able to guess, that that kinda stuff isnt really my thing anymore. Though I suppose I should be flattered that they think I don't look that old. Maybe when I get even older I won't need to worry about wrinkles. O.O That does seem to brighten my future.

But know the funniest part? Is that almost everytime I turn down the crayon menu, I immediatly become an adult. After that they always call me "Miss". One waiter ever called me "Ma'am". Oh dear. Whatever happened to being a teenager? Or has America changed so much in my ten year absence that those years just became nonexistant? What a terrifying thought.

Honors: It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time

So you're probably wondering where the heck I've been the past week. I need to get better at saying when I'm going to be out for a while, but I'm a teenager! Part of my job is to be forgetful and irresponsible. What's the other half? School ... the first one was more fun. So the reason I've been MIA the past week is because of Honors. What in the world possesed me to sign up for Honors? School hasn't even started yet and they've already put me to work! So a few weeks ago I was given the summer assignments for English and Pre-Calculus in my new school. I would have gotten them sooner but see I was in Europe when they were first handed out. I was suppossed to have all summer to do them. I had about three weeks. For English I needed to read two books, write two papers, as well as several charts and diagrams. They're hard enough. Then I have to do a couple pages of review for Pre-Calc, and then some Intro-Pre-Calc.

Joy. (notice how that was sarcastic)

So now I guess I'm stuck trying to finish several assignment I was supposed to have months to finish in weeks. Mind you, I all this is due on the first day of school and my English assignment counts for 10% of my first marking grade. And I haven't even met the teacher!

(Yes I'm venting. This really has nothing to do with coming to the USA and being bombarded with freaky cultural differences, but I'm a bit frustrated.)

Ok well, I should probably get back to work on them. School was easier in elementary school. Anyone else noticed that?

The Roads Are Too Smooth

That's right folks. I said it. I didn't misspell any words (though that might be a believable situation). I really meant what the title said. American roads are too smooth.

Yeah, when you go to Poland, you have to complain about the roads. Bumpy, cracked, uneven, pothole ridden, and even dented down on either side from the weight of the cars. I really thought that that would be the one thing about Poland I wouldn't miss. Fact is...I do. I don't know, just something about the roads back Poland have something that American roads don't. And I don't mean, thier bumpy-ness.

Side Note: I figured out a way to get pictures onto the blog, without having a camera. Google! yeah, its probably illegal to post pictures from someone else's website, but anway. If these are your pictures, just tell and I'll give you credit, or take them down, which ever... please don't make me take them down. My blog is so boring without pictures =}

Poland roads. They don't look very inviting. They look dangerous.

And American Roads. They look nice, friendly and inviting.

But I like Polish roads. Maybe I am insane after all, or maybe I'm just not ready to let go of Poland, but I like Poland roads better. It's difficult to explain. I think it's because all those cracks gave the roads character. You never really know what you were going to get. And yes, given, what you usually got was a big jolt. But American roads are so boring...so predictable.

Yeah, I think I am crazy after all. Darn it. But I actually have a real reason why I think Poland roads are better: They have more traction! Yep, all those little bumps and cracks make it easier to grip the road. So it a rain storm (which face it we have a lot in Poland) Its actually safer than the slick American roads. So American roads may seem less dangerous, until the rain comes! Or snow. Maybe thats why Americans get snow days with two inches of snow. My school in Poland hasn't had a snow day in 14 years I believe. I think I may be onto something here...

You're Not in Poland Anymore!

So this post sort of relates back to my Everyone Speaks English post last month. Only that was about how everyone around me, well, speaks English. This is about how I seem to speak Polish. Now, I'll admit, I don't actually speak Polish, but after six years I've of course had to memorize some basic words and key frases. And it's become so much of a reflex for me to use them...well, let's just say I've been getting some looks along the lines of "Well there's a Crazy".

Here's a replay of a typical Polish-speaking situation that I got myself into yesterday: Ok, so I walk up to a McDonalds, and since really I've only been to Polish McDonalds' I've of course memorized my order in Polish. So I walk up there, not bothering to look at menu (which was ofcourse English and what should have tipped me off) and I say very smoothly (and forgive me, any Polish speakers who read this, I don't actually know how to spell these words): "Moła frytki i szec McNugget prosze." ... Then I'm like, "Oh wait, darn it, not again." At this point is generally when I get "The Look". So I start stuttering about how I'm used to speaking Polish, and that I forget I'm in America now (Yeah, real smooth Anna, real smooth). Then I hear customers behind me clearing thier throats, and then I duck my head and mutter my English order.

I've lost count of how many times I've bumped into someone and said "Pszeprasam" (Excuse me) or when someone has held the door open for me I've said "Dzienkuje" (Thank you). Or I've held open the door and said "Prosze".

You know, you'd think that it wouldn't be that difficult to get rid of all those automatic reflexes, but, six years is a long time. I wouldn't be surprised if it takes me that long to get over them. But until then I'm going to get a lot more "The Look"s. I guess its too bad I don't live in Chicago.

Killer Ivy!

Yeah, I know I know, I promised that I would begin to write daily entries, I know. The reason this entry is so late is because I was hoping, I would be able to put some pictures in, but me, being myself (as in technologicly challenged) at first couldn’t convince my dad that I could use a camera without breaking it (Har har). Then when I finally got permission, and finally had the chance to take my pictures, that was when he told me that we don’t have the cable that downloads photos off the camera and onto the computer. That will come in two months with the rest of our household goods. Well that’s just swell. So come back in two months to get the pictures that go along with this entry.

Anyway. Back to the…cue dramatic music…Killer Ivy of My Back Yard! Dun dun duuuuuuun!

A word of advice: Don’t plant ivy in you’re backyard thinking that it’ll make a nice cover for the berm in the back of you’re yard. Then move away and come back ten years later because this happens:

(insert future picture here)

What the picture should show is about 10 to 15 feet worth of ivy (over a foot thick in some places) creeping towards our house. Only about 10 more feet, and it would begin to take over the house itself. It’s already smothered a tree that is now leaning threateningly over the house. Oh dear.

Now we (meaning my brother and I) have been given the task of clearing all the ivy. Well don’t I feel special. At least its not poison ivy. Give thanks everyday for small miracles. We’ve started clearing, and I must say, its not fun. That first time I was honestly worried that the small dent we had made would be instantly covered over again the next day (It wasn’t). We get about 3 garbage bags full per visit, but what’s actually sort of merciful of the ivy is that even if you grab the even the smallest leaf, the roots will extend all the way back. And the roots are pretty close to surface so its not that difficult to pull up. That is until all those roots become tangled underneath the surface…

But let’s not try to think about that. Best case scenario is that in two months I’ll have it all cleared and it won’t have eaten me. One can only hope.