The United States of Valeria

I know! It sounds like it would probably be the best television show in the world that absolutely no one would watch.

Turns out that it actually sort of is. It's the greatest example that I can think of of second-hand embarrassment for myself.

During my final year as an undergrad at Emerson College, two dear friends of mine, Sarah Aaskov and Kayla Parker approached me with an idea to document my path towards American citizenship. I was game - and to be honest, they did a fabulous job putting together this mini (EVVY Award-Winning!) documentary about my path.

You should shower praise upon them - I know I do.

I got sucked in.

Extremely sucked in.

My bank account is zilch.

Or close to.


But I was charmed by the red-headed Children's International solicitor canvasser that convinced me to sponsor a child (girl) in a foreign country (Chile). I thought out encounter would be just like every other that I've had - a bad one. Where I would end up feeling like a terrible human being, and he would feel frustrated and vent his frustration by calling me a bitch because I would come up with some lame excuse for blowing him off.


I think living with my parents has emotionally stunted me. Actually, scratch that, I know it has emotionally stunted me.

After graduating from college, I didn't move back in with my parents, I merely continued to live with them. Yes, all four years of the "best years of my life" were spent at home with my mother and father. I love them dearly. They keep me on my toes with their Bonnie and Clyde, sado-masochistic, tragi-comedy love affair. But thanks to them generously providing me with a roof over my head, a comfortable bed (rent-free!), food, support, and everything that a parent should do, I'm a perpetual 13-year-old girl.

Apture

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