Verja the Lost Jungle Bunny

I woke up to a not-so-smiley face at an indecent hour this morning. Thoughts struck me all at once:
"I'm going to the Legal Papers Place!"
"I have to get dressed!"
"I have to eat my teeth and brush my breakfast!"
I jumped out of bed, and dressed in record speed. Then I grabbed a book and my cell-phone and checked my email.
Then, I tried hacking Dad's safe eyes. Ludicrous, I know what you mean...Boo, safe eyes...BOO!
After that, I was told that we were gonna be out for a WHILE and that I needed to eat something.
"I'm not hungry, really." I said, as I looked up from my book.
"Well. Eat something! Cereal or toast or something!"
I ate Frosted Flakes. Didn't taste them, but they filled my tummy.
Then, about 20 minutes later,
"MOM! JEWEL ISN'T UP!!"
"She doesn't have to go. She's not immigrating."
"Lucky."
"Get in the car. Got your book?"
I nodded, and slipped in the car.
We arrived at a little building with a secretary who wore a pink shirt. I sat down on a gross flowery chair. It was all gawdy and bleh.
Finally, Dad grabbed some papers and then we walked around the corner and met this super sweet lady who took our pictures.
Then we walked into...THE PAPERS PLACE. And we stood at this little thing with another nice lady who was amazed that we had all our papers...
ALMOST.

I AM THE PROBLEM CAUSER. IT IS MY FAULT FOR TURNING 14! ME ME ME!!
See, the lady says I have to be enrolled in a school. I wanted to say:
"Yeah? Well. There is this new thing. It's called home-schooling. Because SOME of us don't like to get involved with bad things that go on in schools today."
AND THEN, she said that I needed a Police Report. That they had to make sure that I wasn't a criminal.
JUST A QUESTION: Do I LOOK like a criminal? Do I LOOK like I'd kill anyone or deal disgusting drugs or plant bombs in schools? Or anything like that? I'm tiny. I wouldn't be ABLE to do all that. But, MAYBE I could be a spy and I could have killed someone with my thumb! YOU NEVER KNOW THESE DAYS...O.o
So we had to go back to the place with the gawdy flower chairs and the boss had to type up an email asking the PAPERS PLACE to please consider the fact that I entered the country when I was 13, and that the PAPERS PLACE in Miami said I didn't have to do it.
We got this formal NO-SMILEY letter photocopied and then went to the big PAPERS PLACE again. They told us to go talk to some Dr. Amena. So, we went up.
We made some friends in the waiting rooms. A Brazilian lady talked with Mom. All I heard was this:
"Mleh--Mleh MAO MAO--Miew- Mashia OW OW." And occasionally a mumble. Portuguese sounds like cats meowing. Or metal springs in a boxing match.
We met someone else from Oregon, who was a missionary here and HE had been working on HIS papers since January. He had a problem where he had Police Reports, but the PAPERS PLACE wanted him to go to the FBI.
COME ON! The FBI is hard! You can't just like, walk in there. It's not like people have them on their speed-dial. It's H A R D. So, he had it a little tougher than we did.
Then, we talked to THE man. The head honcho. The big guy. The boss.
And he said that he was fine with letting me stay here and slip by without the Police Report. =) And he also said, to just give them all the papers and say that he said it was fine if I didn't enroll in a school. SOMEONE knows about home-schooling here...
I thanked him again and again and again. I wanted to hug him. But, I didn't.
Then his secretary, a guy in a monkey suit, led us back to the PAPERS PLACE. He talked to them about everything, and explained that he was there when the boss a They acted all fine with it, they took the letter and accepted it. Thank you, MONKEY MAN!
Then, the guy behind the desk wasn't satisfied with the boss's saying that it was O.K for me to slip by without the Police Papers and the School Paper.
He needed a signature. Some little scribble on a paper. I can scribble! I'm like the best scribbler around here!
The scribbler's job seemed easy, and I was considering that as my occupation.
Till I had been there for three hours because the lady had to type up this long, monotone email. Then, I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.
So, anyways. The guy called the office we had just come from, and no one answered. It was lunchtime, and BOY did my stomach know it. Our stomachs were like,
"Why are you still here?!? Go eat something!"
And we had to shush it, and suck it up, and then do something else. That seems to be the way we have been rolling for the past month.
Dad ran upstairs to see if the boss was still there. He wasn't. Dad came running back down.
"We're going back tomorrow. The boss already went to lunch."
So, then we left. And I was happy to be OUT.
Mom looked Dad in the eye. "Lunch."
So we called my sister at home. She had made Spaghetti, which sounded just right. Then, we had to reconsider.
TRAFFIC. LUNCHTIME. They seemed to fit together like Peanut Butter and Jelly..(Mmm...Peanut butter and jelly...)
So, we called my sister up.
"The traffic is horrible. We're so hungry. If we can make it to the house, we'll eat with you, but the traffic is really rough so we might stop and eat somewhere. Depends."
So we stopped at ate at La Paulista. A wonderful steak place where they bring the food up to you.
I ♥ La Paulista!
We were there for a while. Satisfying our hunger, and eating yummy things like sugared pineapple and lomo de cerdo. Doesn't that word just TASTE delicious?
Dad happened to have a craving for sausage. Spicy sausage. And he let every waiter guy who came to the table know it!
MAN 1:"Would you like a chicken heart, sir?"
"No. I'm waiting for the spicy sausage."
MAN 2:"Would you care for some pig lung?"
"No, but I'd LOVE some sausage."
MAN 3:"Want some sugared pineapple?"
"Yes, please. And I'm waiting for the spicy sausage."
MAN 4:"Chicken cheese fillet, sir?"
"Yes. Thank you. And you know, I'd LOVE some of your spicy sausage!"
MAN 5:"Tenderloin, sir?"
"Yes. And I want spicy sausage."
MAN 6:"More lomo de cerdo?"
"No. But I would really like some of that spicy sausage!"
MAN 7:"More pineapple, sir?"
"No. Is there any spicy sausage?"
MAN 8:"Would you like some spicy sausage, sir?"
"YES!!!PILE IT ON, BUDDY!! How did you know?"
Hmm...I wonder...How DID they know?
We ate our fill and then discussed a pastry that we can't describe! It's like a donut filled with...something creamy...
And then we bought a birthday-cake for Elena and I brought it home.