Recently, a Kenyon calendar came in the mail. Aptly, my father has named it “places your kid isn’t.” “Here we are, Isla,” he says, “looking at all of these beautiful snowy pictures of a school you have barely even been to,” and I can’t help but agree. Some would take this opportunity to say, “Isla, do not continue a trend in your stupid little irrelevant blog articles of being an insolent brat and complaining that you’re not on campus. No one cares.” To that I would also agree. Good jab, some, you’re on the right track. In these unprecedented times, that some would refer to as “hell,” (some would be wrong, here), I consider all the fragments of hell that are also, coincidentally, places your kid isn’t, or more matter of factly, isn’t yet.
If I were to go back to campus, I would be holed up in my little Caples single, reading this same theory, but putting my mask on to go to the bathroom. In the vein of refuting my ungrateful brat-hood, I take this-here chance to declare that I am in fact the most grateful angel on this whole planet. I live for Zoom. I eat Zoom for dinner. Zoom is going to be in my wedding vows. I helped Zoom through its gambling problem. Zoom and I just opened a bank account in the Cayman Islands. I took Zoom through its relapse. This is an amazing education and I’m lapping up every second of it like a border collie. There, are you happy, God? Was I grateful enough????? Was I thankful enough amidst my privileged pandemic experience to garner sainthood?
If yes, cool. If no, here is why I can’t go to hell, in no particular order:
- I have rosacea and the heat inflames that rosacea
- I own more pants than shorts
- Is there any swimming, in hell? The chlorine is going to dry out my hair. Also, I would rather die than wear a swimsuit in front of my celebrity crush, hell resident Rush Limbaugh. I’m too self conscious, and I need to impress him. You get it.
- Are they gonna make me eat blue cheese?
- None of my cousins are going to be there, and I like hanging out with them.
- In all my life I’ve never even had a SINGLE cavity. How many hell residents have THAT on their resumé.
- I don’t think it’s that bad a sin to fall asleep every time you babysit, and I’m not going to be held accountable for that
- My hair will probably get super frizzy, and I hate that.
- I feel like there won’t be a neverending stock of yerba mate bottles, which is a big deal breaker for me.
- Some kids broke up their parents marriages, but I was a passive agent in my parents divorce, and at age 5 honestly super supportive and definitely not a catalyst for the end of their union. Can you rats say that about your own families?
- I know I yelled at my therapist two weeks ago but honestly she deserved it.
- Yes, maybe I DID go on vacation in Miami and super spread to high heaven. But everyone else was doing it.
- Lastly, none of my friends are there. Or none of my friends are there YET. You can’t do that to me. I’m gonna get lonely! At least send me down there with a buddy, I need someone to do a fit check for me so that I make sure I look cute when I hang out with Rush Limbaugh.