A few days ago, I went to the mall with three of my friends. We wandered around and collected things we do not need. We are still young enough to have disposable income. We do not buy jeans in our mall because our legs are too long. We laughed.
One of my sister's friends saw us there on Monday or Tuesday. She watched us go from store to store apparently unaware of the flaws in our surroundings. Laughing at the more ridiculous clothes. Picking up things in interest, turning for other's opinions.
She called us, "The Hannah's".
A few years ago. My cousin and I went to see my sister's Christmas concert at school. We were standing at the snack table contemplating Auntie Ann's chocolate chips, when another of my sister's friends approached us with Hannah in tow.
"OH MY GOSH, THERE'S THREE OF YOU."
This is a reaction we receive most of the places we go. Store clerks want to know where we're from in Europe. Waitresses ask how our mother managed to raise us all. We forget sometimes how different we are on this island.
Our island is many things. We appreciate it for being so many things, and it has given us each other so we can't be too harsh. But we all grew up with jeans that didn't reach our ankles. We all asked our mothers to dye our hair brown. We all wanted to leave school early on Wednesdays to go to CCD.
But, we weren't what we thought we should be. We were all tall. All of us grew thick blond hair. All of us grew up in tiny protestant churches that taught us Scandanavia was in our blood. This was different on the island. And now, when we travel around in our pack, we are surprised when eyes follow us.
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