YouthInkwell Publishing

I will now express all my thoughts in a most singular, emotional, poetic, soul-baring statement that reaches into the deepest, darkest recesses of my soul:

            Today, I felt like a toucan.

            But, more on that later.  First things first.

            The first thought that entered my mind this morning, as I woke up, was that, the previous night, I had forgotten to put on my night contacts. 

            And, I’d also forgotten to change out of the previous day’s clothing.  I didn’t even remember falling asleep.  So as I got out of bed, the room looked fuzzy and soft.

            I followed Noel through the Casino to the breakfast restaurant of which I do not recall the name.  There, we ate a most delicious meal of fruits, rice, eggs, yogurt, and some odd alien fruit that Matthew, Cate, and Noel agreed was a giant kumquat.

            As it turns out, they were wrong.  As Matthew and I cut open the fruit, a gray goo-ball speckled with cute little seeds tumbled out onto our waiting hands.  Yummy.  Apparently, although Passion Fruit Juice back in the States is yellow, real passion fruit is gray.  In the future, I shall keep this incident in mind while I order my drinks at Lollicup.

            At 9:30, we boarded our bus for our uh, forty five minute ride.  Forty-five minutes managed to stretch themselves into a long, winding, three hour delight of carsickness.  During this ride of utmost pain and misery, we bestowed upon one another the most charming of nicknames, which I will reveal to you, dearest reader, towards the finale of this updation.  Ah, lucky you.

            I actually don’t remember much about the bus ride, because what came next completely overshadowed whatever events that transpired on that little white bus.

            After recovering from my bout of carsickness, we were strapped into harnesses so that we could go zip-lining on our canopy tour.  A worker put a giant metal pulley on my hip.  As I followed our group, my right side threatened to overpower the rest of my body and drag me down into the dirt. 

            And Noel strapped Maurice into his harness. 

            Now, about the rainforest.  (Yes, that is a fragment, and I don’t care.  It’s for dramatic effect, which I just ruined by typing this explanation.)  The rainforest was a huge blanket of green, which sprawled out into the distance and onto the mountains.  As we ascended the nature-made steps to our first platform, I felt as if I were tramping through a green, leafy wonderland.  Yes, my vision was terrible and fuzzy from not having worn my night contacts the night before, but that only added to the dreamlike beauty of the rainforest.  And as yours truly is not as poetic as Mr. Noel Mollinedo, I will move onto zip-lining before I begin to seriously embarrass myself.

              You know how in action movies, the hero slides down a telephone line with some random useful little pulley thing he just happens to find?  (That rhetorical question was way too long.)  But, that’s basically what zip-lining is like.

            We soared through the trees—literally!  Now, back to my philosophical statement made earlier in this blog.  I felt like a toucan.  As ridiculous and “unpoetic” as that sounds, I was really given the capability to soar through the rainforest canopy like one.  I had ample opportunity to look around and take in the rainforest.

            And yes, it was–is beautiful.  If I were a toucan, this peaceful green haven would be my home.  I’d wake up every morning in a leafy paradise.

            Yet people want to chop and burn this place down? 

            The idea is unfathomable.

            As for the rest of today, there were two more incidents of note.

            Number one: Here are those nicknames I’m sure you’ve been dying to hear.

            Noel is Carol (the First Noel is a Carol, HAHA..no.); Matthew is Kermit because he looks like said froggie; Cate is a faun; Ivy is FangXi; and my nickname is
Shannon.

            Number two: We found ants in our room and cheese in Ivy’s bed.  No doubt that this was the handiwork of the one and only Cate and our ridiculous gumdrop war the previous day.  Housekeeping came in to spray ant spray, and it honestly really, really smelled.

            And Ivy said that it’d kill us all in our sleep.  That is an extremely unpleasant thought.

            So tonight I retire in Cate’s room.