By Melanie Steele
An inspiring memoir approximately one woman's look for happiness and achievement in modern day the United States. After relocating to the USA from Canada in 1998, a free-spirited younger lady rejects the established order and embarks on a trip to find what it ability to be actually chuffed and fulfilled within the Land of chance. Her 13-year seek spans part a dozen states, a number 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 United States is a relocating own trip and a pointy, tough examine the yank Dream. [C:\Users\Microsoft\Documents\Calibre Library]
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Extra resources for 13 Years in America
Now that we have a plan, there’s no more messing around. Scott takes advantage of the speed limit sign, “Reasonable and prudent,” by kicking it down to seventy and flying down the interstate. The landscape is a lot less interesting now that we’re just trying to get through it, with fields and hills and forests rushing past. We stop only for gas, grabbing snacks to tide us over. We’re going to drive through the night. At some point while I’m sleeping we pass into Idaho and then into Washington. Some time before dawn, Scott pulls into a Perkins, with its gigantic American flag flying next to the freeway.
There’s a bunch of apartment manager positions, and they all say that you can live on-site. ” I look up from the Seattle Times and nod. “I bet we could get one of those jobs,” he continues. ” “Alright. ” PORTLAND We’re driving into Portland with a thousand dollars and nothing else. 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.
That night, Scott has a bottle of champagne waiting for me when I get home. We sit cross-legged on a blanket spread over the brown carpet, and we toast to this year finally being over. ” I tell him. ” “Yes. It was. You owe me. ” I can feel myself grinning as I tell him this. I can’t seem to stop smiling. The wait is over. In the morning, we load the last things into our Grand Am and head west. ON THE ROAD All these roads are new to me. I’ve traveled the TransCanada Highway several times. I’ve slept outside in the Land of the Midnight Sun, covering my face with my sleeping bag to block out the light.
13 Years in America by Melanie Steele