I was just kind of lamenting that my parents didn’t migrate to France instead of Venezuela when I was ten.

I’d have grown up speaking French and been all sophisticated and shit. Granted speaking Spanish is much more useful but still.

For some reason I thought about Kristy.

Kirsty was this Texan girl who came to my school. As in wore cowboy boots to class, Texan. She was tall and blonde and spoke with a drawl and looked like someone who’d grown up on a farm- she was kinda plain and wholesome looking. And entirely out of place in our school that was filled with military and embassy kids who’d been travelling the world since they were two and were for the most part pretty fucking sophisticated.

Kirsty refused to learn to speak Spanish. She just didn’t wanna. And if you know anything about immersion, it’s pretty fucking difficult not to pick up a language when it’s all around you. But somehow she managed. I think she pretty much left Venezuela exactly as she came. Pure Texan.

I wonder where she is now.