Letters to Emily Smith, my sponsored child in Africa, installment #7

Dear Emily,

I am soooo bored. I thought this summer would totally rock. Turns out it totally sucks. I thought my place would be party central but most of my friends are gone away with their families after they said they were staying here. F*ckers. I could have gone traveling with my family too but I'm not a masochist. Besides, Europe will be way more fun when I'm older, sans parents, if you get my drift. 

My dad left me his credit card but I'm sick of shopping. I went like, everyday, for a couple weeks but now it's just lame. So I basically hang out by our pool getting high on weed and reading fashion magazines. Looking at those models makes me want to puke up my lunch, which I only do every second day, so I don't cause myself serious health problems. 

I'm down to a size zero but now they have double zero - the new gold standard. So, I have some work to do. I should probably stop smoking weed because it makes me hungry. I can scarf a big bag of Cheetos in one sitting. And, of course, there's no way I can keep that down, not if I want to be a double zero so I usually make myself puke it up.

 

But life without weed would not be tolerable. I mean, there is nothing to do. I melted a beeswax candle and tried to give myself a bikini wax with it. I thought the wax would be really good since it's all natural. I just ended up making a huge mess and burning myself. 

Then I tried to make homemade nail polish with food coloring and corn syrup. The pool boy let me try it on his nails. We just ended up licking it off. No, it wasn't a sexual thing. He's gay, and like, my best friend in the whole world right now. He also makes the greatest cosmos ever. 

Then there's the tennis instructor. But that's a whole other letter. 

Venice

Letters to Emily Smith, my sponsored child in Africa, installment #6

Dear Emily, 

Well, I just finished my high school sophomore year. Only two more years to go. We had this wicked party last weekend to celebrate and everyone got totally wasted. It was awesome! Now, I get to lounge around our pool for the summer. That'll mean smoking lots of pot. I mean, obviously, I'm gonna be so bored. My parents offered to take me to Europe for a couple months but that's so passé. Like I care about seeing things that are hundreds of years old. Although, the shopping is pretty good in Paris and Milan. 

My boyfriend dumped me for some do-gooder, academically-excellent geek. Whatever. I'm over it. The tennis instructor whose been hitting on my mom also has an eye for me. I so trump my mom. She'll have to find another boy toy. I think she got bored with my dad a long time ago. Now, they just cheat on each other openly, you know? Maybe they're just too lazy to get a divorce. Anyway, my mom can be a real cougar. It's totally embarrassing. She's even hit on some of my friends. I was mortified. I mean, that is so not cool. 

My dad slept with a senior at my high school. Now that was embarrassing. He's kind of a perv. He likes them younger too, like my mom. But why do they have to be so close to my age? Aren't college chicks way cooler? I don't know what his deal is but it's kinda gross. Like, go smoke another one dad. You freak. At least he hasn't hit on my girlfriends, yet. 

So, it'll be totally awesome with the two of them gone for the summer. It'll just be me, the housekeeper, the gardener and the pool boy. Oh, and the tennis instructor. Can you say party at my place? I'm stoked. Speaking of which, I think it's time to spark up a dubee. Gotta kick off the summer on the right foot, you know?

Hope you're doing well and the weather is nice in Africa.

Venice

Letters to Emily Smith, my sponsored child in Africa, installment #5

Dear Emily,

I am soooo hungover today, I just want to die. I feel so crappy. Every time I get this way, I promise myself I won't drink ever again. Then, after a few days, I forget how crummy I felt and do it all over. The one advantage is it makes me puke a lot, so I might have lost a pound or two. 

One of my friends had a major party last night, so, of course, I had to join in the festivities. But I never know when to stop, you know? I start feeling all warm and fuzzy, then the next thing you know, I'm puking my guts out while trying to shove some random guy off me.

Have you tried alcohol yet? I would suggest a hard liquor with a good mixer. That's my favorite. But you have to be careful 'cause it creeps up on you. You'll feel perfectly fine after a few drinks, then you'll try to get up and you won't be able to. That's when you know you're in trouble. 

And you have to watch those boys. As soon as they get a whif that there's a drunken girl around, they'll pounce on you and try to take your clothes off. One time that happened to me but I was too late. I woke up completely naked while this guy was on top of me. I must have passed out for, like, a really long time. 

You must have parties in your village, right? When your parents are away? Mine are gone a lot, so I party pretty hard. Sometimes, I think it's just something to do, to pass the time, you know? I mean, I have friends and all, but we get bored so we party. Wow, my head really hurts. I better go take an aspirin, or maybe a Vicodin, it hurts pretty bad. And I think I'm gonna go drink, like, a litre of water. I'm parched. 

Hope you're doing well. Write soon!

Venice

Letters to Emily Smith, my sponsored child in Africa, installment #4

Dear Emily,

I had to get a vaccination today. What a drag. I mean, I didn't have to wait in line like most people, 'cause my dad's rich and has connections but still. I don't know why I have to get them. I never get sick. I'm super healthy. I always make sure our cook puts out fresh fruit for breakfast every morning. And I work out like, every day. Plus, unlike most of my friends, I only puke once a day, not three or four. A girl's gotta keep her figure. If I scarf down a bag of cookies, there's no way I'm not hoarking that shit up. It'll go straight to my thighs. Anyway...

You probably don't need any needles and shit since you live in nature. I think it's because we live in houses and drive cars and eat in restaurants that we get sick, you know? You're lucky, you get to commune with the trees, and the sky and the earth. It must be so wonderful and simple to live in a grass hut, eating off the land. 

There's a big organic movement here. You guys should really cash in on that. It's like, huge here. We're talking millions and millions of dollars. Your village could become an organic tourist destination! Come spend a few days in lush, tropical Africa. It would be a huge seller! Are there palm trees where you live? I mean, I think there are but I'm not sure.

Geez. Now my skin is getting all red and puffy from that stupid vaccination! I was gonna sit by the pool and try to get some sun but now I'll look like a dork with this big welt on my arm. Now what? My day is ruined. I bet you get a lot of sun in Africa. Do you need to use sunscreen too? 

Anyhoo, guess I'd better find something else to do. I think I have a bit of weed left. Maybe I'll smoke that and eat a bag of cheezies. Pot makes me so hungry! I'll totally have to puke after that. Hey, you might have pot growing in your backyard and not even know it! I'll send you a picture of what the plant looks like and you can check. Your life will never be the same. You could get rich selling that stuff. Those international aid organizations should really look into that, you know? Show you how to become sustainable or self-sufficient or whatever. 

Well, my Valium's wearing off so I'm gonna go smoke that joint now. Tata for now! Keep in touch!

Letters to Emily Smith, my sponsored child in Africa, installment #3

Dear Emily,

I just bought an iPhone. How excited am I? This thing does everything! I can surf the Web, check my e-mail, text friends and use it as a phone. And it has like, a gazillion apps (that's short for applications). 

It can do stuff like find the best chicken wing place in town, play games, read a book, design and send digital postcards, look up recipes (not that I cook but for the kitchen staff - I think they'd really like that), tune an instrument, track expenses (although I don't really need to - I just use my dad's credit card, he takes care of the rest), edit digital photos, check surf conditions worldwide, find constellations and planets, track celebrity and fashion news, record music, and on and on!

Isn't it like the coolest thing ever? I mean, before I just had your run of the mill texting cellphone with a flip-out keyboard. Sure, I still had access to the Web and stuff but it was so not the same. That phone was ghetto. This one kicks ass! Hey, maybe I can find where you live! I'm sure there's a maps app. You'll have to send me your address. You can text or e-mail it to me if you want. That would be so cool! 

You should definitely give me your e-mail address. Then, I can send you photos of where I live. Or, we can become friends on Facebook! Then you can see all my photos! You must be on Facebook. I mean, like, the whole world is. Why didn't I think of this before? You should get on MSN too. Then we could chat in real time. How awesome would that be!

Anyhoo, gotta run. Tennis lesson. Which I HATE. I don't know why my mom insists I take them. I think it's because she thinks the instructor is really hot. Whatever. I have a massage afterwards so at least I have something to look forward to. 

Well, tata for now. Write soon!

Letters to Emily Smith, my sponsored child in Africa, installment #2

Dear Emily,

I am so mad, I could cry. That stupid girl with her stupid face piercings and bad dye job at Starbucks screwed up my order again! I took one sip and had to throw my latté away. I hate it when that happens! Especially when I need my caffeine fix! If I don't have my caffeinated beverage at a certain time every day, I am a complete mess. 

I wish they could hire decent people at Starbucks. I mean, how hard is it? Actually, it would probably be a great job for some of your older relatives if they wanted to move here. You don't need to know much. They'll show you how to work the espresso and cappuccino machine. You just can't steal the money in the till, as tempting as that may be. 

Wow. I should start a business. Finding jobs for poor people from Africa. I think I'd be great at it. And it would make me feel good that I'm helping immigrants adjust to life here. You know, that's just the kind of person I am. I want to help people. 

Crap. Gotta go. Am at another Starbucks. These f*cking immigrants! I said: tall, half-sweet, soy milk, non-fat, low-foam, hint of whip cream, three chocolate sprinkles on my latté! How hard is that?

Letters to Emily Smith, my sponsored child in Africa, installment #1

Dear Emily,

I am stuffed! Just had a huge dinner at a new restaurant in the market. It's a seafood place. Is there seafood in Africa?

Anyway, I had this shrimp dish. It was amazing. The shrimp were plump and juicy and perfectly cooked and dripping with garlic butter. Mmmmm. Yummy goodness. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. 

I also had a lobster tail with more garlic butter. Apparently, garlic is really good for you. You should eat some, if you have garlic in your village. 

Now I feel like a beached whale, all fat and heavy. Maybe I ate too much but it was soooo good. You know when you're eating something so tasty, you just can't stop yourself even though you feel full? That's exactly what I did at dinner tonight. I ate like a little piggy. 

Now I'm paying the price. But that's ok 'cause my personal trainer is coming in the morning to help me work off those extra calories before I hit the mall for some shopping in the afternoon. Maybe I'll get a mani-pedi too. It's important to pamper yourself, you know?

Anyhoo, better run. The maid's running my bath and I want to make sure the water temperature isn't too hot. She can never seem to get it right! 

Hope you're doing well. Write soon! Tata for now!