By Melanie Steele
An inspiring memoir approximately one woman's look for happiness and achievement in modern day the USA. After relocating to the U.S. from Canada in 1998, a free-spirited younger lady rejects the established order and embarks on a trip to find what it skill to be really chuffed and fulfilled within the Land of chance. Her 13-year seek spans part a dozen states, a host of fearless adventures, and ever-increasing crises, divisions, turmoil, and discontent. via all of it, she holds directly to her fearless pursuit of happiness and success opposed to ever-decreasing odds.Bold and encouraging, thirteen Years in the USA is a relocating own trip and a pointy, difficult examine the yank Dream. [C:\Users\Microsoft\Documents\Calibre Library]
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Extra info for 13 Years in America
No jobs, no friends, no plan. ” The city sprawls ahead of us. Four lane streets with fast food joints and bus stops and the downtown skyline in the distance. Apartment buildings have “Now Renting” banners. ” Our windshield wipers beat away the falling rain. “Let’s find a motel,” Scott says. ” We rent a cheap motel room and bring our newspaper and clothes bags in. I leave Scott to call about the apartment manager jobs and head into the bathroom for a long, hot shower. When I come out, Scott’s smiling.
My dad and Pat stand off to one side, and Scott’s mom and dad stand off to the other side, looking miserable. Scott and I each hold a copy of our vows in our hands so we can read them in turn. We’ve already looked through and, at my request, crossed out all the “obey” parts. We listen to the justice lead the ceremony, and we each say our lines. For a moment, when we flip to the last page of our vows, I’m gripped with fear. I’ve known Scott for less than three months. I’ve never seen the city I’m about to move to.
They only have styrofoam cups and little packets of powdered creamer, but I pour three cups anyway. Scott’s waiting at the counter. ” he asks. ” He pays for the gas, coffee, and donuts, and pulls out the map in the car. “Let’s take the interstate into the Black Hills,” he says. ” We hit the Black Hills around noon. The interstate takes us past Rapid City and up to the turnoff, and then we follow tour busses down the narrow road that winds through hills covered in dark green trees. When we reach Deadwood, we’re ready for lunch.
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