You Look Like the Fourth of July (Makes Me Want a Hot Dog Real Bad)

 

Hola, 

 ",0 

That’s a duck 

Truth be told, not much of note happened this week. I've played my first few games of Pickleball and maybe trash-talked more than many in my district would've expected, but unfortunately for me and for them I'm not used to waking up so early and so I am therefore very tired and have lost all filters. Thankfully, however, I was blessed to stand with my fellows on the sidelines and spin in Wii Sports fashion while the others played and that gave us some pretty good laughs. 

Yesterday was the fourth of July, and I really don’t think the American National Anthem or America the Beautiful have been sung this much in all of Mexico City. You'd walk down the hallway and hear one "America!" after another being sung at the top of the lungs of at least one very red, blue, and white missionary. 

Our district played kickball too! And while I missed an almost epic catch and got out on my first try, it was really fun. Despite the celebrations and very appreciated hot dog in the cafeteria for dinner, I’ve got to admit the day wasn't my favorite. As of July 4th I was one day away from my one-month mark as a missionary in the MTC. And I think with that came the realization that I’m getting ever so closer to reality as a missionary, and I'm nowhere near as ready as I want to be. I want so badly to know and to be able to do everything. 

My district has talked a lot about who they were before and who they're trying to be now. And I've been thinking about that a lot too. And I really haven't come to any conclusion. Seeing the ideal laid out in front of me has been very trying. I want to be so much better than I am or was in Spanish. I want to be better in what I talk about. I want this ideal so bad, where I know just what to say, or every word my Spanish teacher says. But what I've been wondering is how to find balance--balance between pushing myself to know Spanish and being patient with myself. Balance in what I need to change and what I don't, or between speaking and staying quiet. 

I'm really not sure who I was before, right now, or exactly who I want to be. But I know the most important thing I can do is stand on my foundation, and from there I can watch the floods of Spanish and my social awkwardness crash around me (and then get frustrated and sometimes just a little petty when the salt water burns my eyes). 

I also got some pretty bad food poisoning, and well... maybe that’s a story for another time.

We were also told in an email to stop petting, feeding, and letting cats into our apartments. So I guess I gotta let George/Church go. 

 Hermana d'Evegnée