By Mitch Mosier
Hello, again, journal. The most interesting thought in my mind right now is that I’m glad my room has a bathroom. Whenever I stay at a friend’s house, I wait in bed until after he wakes, though I always wake up first. Something about being in someone else’s house keeps me from wandering about until I know it’s “allowed.” So, I haven’t left my room yet, but, because of the attached bathroom, I have taken a shower and gotten ready. Ms. Talbot didn’t tell me when breakfast starts. I hope she comes to get me.
Here’s an observation: I didn’t know anyone used the title Ms. I mean, I know they do, but I’ve never met one. Maybe I haven’t been paying attention.
I’ll try to relate recent events, how I came to the Story Project. No, I think I’ll just skip to arriving here. I could write about the discussions I had with my parents – they encouraged me; I don’t think I would have come without their prodding. I could detail the trip. My brother and sisters got the giggles halfway here. We would have scared a stranger with our laughing, I think. Granted, “Jon and Bob’s Bobs and Johns” (a toilet and tackle store) still makes me laugh, but maybe that’s just me….My family was impressed by the mansion. My brother joked the whole way here about getting our room to himself now, but even he was a bit envious of my room here. Ms. Talbot offered us a tour of the Lem Institute, but we declined. We’re sick of looking at colleges. For now, the Story Project is my college. Then she introduced us to the other members.
It reminded me most of a family reunion: everyone knew me, but I didn’t know anyone. (Mitch, this is your Grandma’s sister’s cousin. You remember Mildred, don’t you, from Uncle Jack’s funeral three years ago?) They all smiled and shook my hand and introduced themselves. I don’t remember their names hardly, except for Bob, ‘cause that’s easy, and Lance, because I thought it was cool.
Some of them talked with me at supper last night. Dr. Xayyachack – everyone calls him something different, but I can’t bring myself to call him by a nickname; he’s a teacher – he wasn’t at supper, which was unusual, I gathered. We heard a large bang during the meal and the floor shook. It was pretty neat actually, but Mrs. Xayyachack left the room to check on him. I never heard what happened. I hope he’s all right.
I hear some rustling in the hallway. People are awake, I think. I’ll go peek out. Yep. Well, I’ll wait around and see what’s happening. Maybe I’ll write again. Maybe not. Bye.