From the diary of Griselda Vargas-Beilschmidt

6

Do you ever just plan something and then do something completely different? Me with this chapter. I just start and plan to get somewhere, but then I end up elsewhere. This story's just basically writing itself, kind of. 

Tiny bit of angst towards the end

Some particular foods remind me of particular people. Sure, some are obvious, like pasta and Bratwurst are dads, freshly baked pizza Uncle Romano, tomatoes Uncle Spain, but some aren't so apparent. Fred's are pancakes and campfire-roasted marshmallows, he loves those. George's are oysters. Fishes are those nordics I mentioned. I also know people whose "reminder foods" are pizza Hawaii, coconuts, cookies or even garlic. (The last one's my teacher - nothing against garlic, but... it's one of the reasons I'm failing math.)

Gabriel's are fruity cocktails. Sunshine in a glass.

And mini tomatoes. We once had a game of "How many mini tomatoes can you fit in your mouth". He won. Don't ask me how could he fit 28 of them in there, but he could. Somehow. Might be his Spanish genes showing? Also, you should've seen Uncle Romano's look. He looked at Gabe with such a proud parental look, like "Yo, this is my boy and he's the best being on this planet and I'll fight whoever opposes".

Moments like these are extremely rare, that's what makes them unforgettable.

If I had to think about what my food would be, I don't really know. Strudel? Or tiramisu? I freaking love tiramisu, for the record. And I know how to make it. I don't want to seem like a show-off, but everyone says my tiramisu is delicious.

And Gabriel is a really successful bartender. I love his cocktails, and so does everyone else. He even wants to become a bar owner when he grows up. If he ever grows up, that is, but the signs he's been showing through his years of living are in his favour. I say, follow your dreams!

Maybe I could cook for him there? Though I enjoy cooking a lot, doing it for money as a job seems a bit too much... I'm not really sure what do I want to become, but a professional cook is most definitely not it.

Fred says he wants to be either a professional hockey player or a wildlife documentarist. George sees his career as a guide (his knowledge of both english and french are helping a lot), other friends would like to become, for example, scientists, authors, directors, explorers, even hairdressers! Si, our group really has different opinions about the perfect career.

But Gabe, the little (well, not really) imp is already working towards his dream by bartending on every single world meeting. Started two years ago, he's been allowed to in the end with the promise of not drinking any of the alcoholic beverages. Although the other nations had been confused and not believing his skills, he proved them wrong by remembering every single thing they wanted and now they'll just ask for "the usual". He even politely smiled back as they commented on his "extraordinary memory" and showered him in praise! Aaaand then he was blushing, telling them to "Shut up and take the *beep*ing drink". In a happy tone, mind you.

(And Spain was all like "THAT'S MY SON RIGHT THERE!" in his usual cheerful way - until the *beep* had to be used. Then he just looked at Uncle Romano with disapproving in his eyes.)

I asked dads what would they want to become if they weren't countries. Papa told me he wanted to be a painter when he was young and living with Mr Austria. He mentioned some friend of his back then, and gazed in the distance as his eyes started watering. I didn't know what just happened, but hugged him and tried to calm him down the best I could. He hugged back eventually, mumbling something that went like "you look just like him as a girl".

Ummmm, whatttt??? I am confusion. Just ?????????

Vati said he'd probably be some sort of a manager or work in the government. He'd admitted that he'd liked being a fighter pilot in the WW2, though.

Sounds interesting. Flying has always been something I dreamt about doing (who didn't?).

Maybe about that next time. For now, I remain your faithful everyday-life reporter.