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| Summer flys by. Each year a summer has become shorter and shorter, and suddenly the year is almost starting at all once, and I am not ready for the summer to end. Making money, living like a poor person, and spending each day working and then home, to my kitchen, to my life, has been a dream. Soon, I will be living in the dorms, and my life will be regressing back to campus life. Which is OK. I am excited. I am ready to be with my friends again, have my own room among friends. I am planning for what is happening, but I am hoping that I can be as happy as I have been this summer. I know I will be.
I love my life. I just sometimes need to remind myself that what is coming is going to be amazing, whatever it is.
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| This summer, slowly, surely, is passing us by. Today is the first day, officially, but for us in the higher education world, we have been out for months. Almost two full months. This summer has graced us with warm weather, and I can't ask for more happiness going into late June. The apartment is beautiful, my room is pretty clean, and I have a good feeling about all of this. There are things to look forward too later in the summer, and things that I am dreading, but all in all this should be one of the best summers of my life.
Step one. A new Lifehouse CD has made its way to my ears. Its like someone tells them what I am going through and then they release a record about my life. I can't even stand it.
someday i am going to find it/wish i knew what i was looking for...
There have been some big changes in my life, but some things stay the same. Have you been writing much this summer? I confess I haven't been. Every night I find myself busy, with my friends, spending my time living and having experiences, seldom finding time to write them down. They need to be recorded, and I know that it won't be done by others, and yet I am reluctant to write them down. It is a continual writer's block. Summers ago, I wrote from my life, my experiences. An afternoon at the beach, an evening with a friend I hold dear to me. Now, it is as if all of those things the open fields has taught me has gone away. I feel as though I forget how it was, then. Escaping to my room at the end of the day, writing pages that kept me up until one a.m. Never quite getting enough sleep, and drinking lots of coffee on the way to work. Playing with the girls for hours, trying to get through my books and make sure they don't dive into the water at the same time. Lathering sunscreen. Going to the lake, reminding the girls that they need to stay close to me, but they need to go into the water, too, because its fun. Traipsing around with my phone buddy, making him cart the ladies and I to the lake, back. Then, later, my house, for a bonfire. Smores, and a good time. Always, always, a good time.
I miss home. I didn't think I would miss home like I do, but there it is. I wish that I had a field behind me. A pool. A place to catch fireflies. They don't come to this part of the world. I wish that I could find a place that I could lay down my head, in the grass, and entertain the thought of a nap. Find a place to read. I wish that there were playgrounds, playmates, cars. Thirty minute drives to work with Hanson, coffee, and the thoughts of what game to play later in the day.
This summer, though, is bringing joys all its own. I am loving cooking, every night. Fancy desserts from our organic fruits, and sometimes a case of Twisted Tea for the newly 21+ crowd. The outside beckons to me, however, but the sun light is just on the other side of the glass. 38.75 hours a week turned into 43, and I'm not complaining, I just miss the sun. I miss my breath in the outside world. I want the sunbeams to shine upon my face and I want it to burn me. I want to be cursed for staying out for so long. I want to go camping, eat out of a can, and think about nothing but the immediate three hours of my life.
I want this summer to last forever. The weeks are filling up with schedules that hurt my head, overlapping from various corners of my life. I want fall to never come. The cold, the fridge of a room, a small box to contain myself in. I want to stay away from others as long as possible. Once back inside my hole, I know I'll be happy, but for now I am contented away. Far away with a sink that's very deep and a stove and a mini dishwasher. And Casaer.
Casaer, at least, has kept me going. He is unlike Lincoln, in that he breathes, but he is equally as caring, and really listens. He dances with me in the mornings, and he understands that he must accept that he is a fish, and he must accept that he must eat flakes that he does not really like because that is what fish do.
Maybe I should be more like Casaer. Maybe I should accept that what humans do is get jobs in the summers, and work during the school work to stay afloat so they can go out and get a job and spend hours inside every day, focused on the workings of the world. Everyone has a place in the world, and everyone has to figure out how to get to that place. Some of us are on will call, and all we have to do is present ourselves and say "Here I am." Some of us are regular buyers, who plan in advance, months, years, to be prepared for the main event. Some of us think of our place quickly, buying our tickets a day before, or a week before, and not a minute to late because--to think!--they were almost sold out. Some of us realize our place and have to wait in line overnight, with no food or shelter, to get the place we deserved all along. And some of us just plain don't get there. Didn't buy tickets, or they were sold out, or maybe didn't care to. A little bit of sour grapes--that wasn't the type of show I had wanted, anyways--or a bit of self pity, reminding oneself how foolish it is to buy tickets the night before, or worse, at the door.
I wish I could be on a will call. But planning in advance and hoping for the best is all I can do.
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| And I find, most of the time, I miss the way...
The summer is beginning. It is the summer, and the weather is nice, and the North End is beautiful. The other night, SS and I walked down to the bocce courts and watched old men play a couple of rounds. It was extremely entertaining, and it made me peaceful. We watched and sipped our coffee, enjoying the seemingly gay boys kiss their girlfriends, and the seemingly nice old men fight with each other.
The apartment is working out quite nicely. Soon enough, when I have a day off, I will sit in the apartment and read. Or I will go downstairs and walk out to the backyard and watch the tourists walk through the park to Old North Church. Or I will write letters to my loves and think about how I yearn for forever stamps.
All and all the summer is starting off right. My home needs to be cleaned, and I need to pick up on the reading, but other than that I am so good.
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| Another summer has begun, and I feel fine. Things that I love: The summer has brought warm weather. The summer has brought skirts, leaves, and small kinder playing in my backyard. (Also known as Paul Revere Park, the Freedom Trail, and the entrance to Old North Church, but to me, it's home.) Today I walked by these old women on their stoops, and I thought to myself, I would really like to be them when I get older. Today I read more than 100 pages of a book and then almost finished a second. Today I saw my best friend, had the best sandwich ever, a large iced tea (of the black variety), had fate work its magic, and ate two Popsicles. Today I almost finished a crossword puzzle and bought a new outfit. Today was great.
Now, I am a senior. Can you all imagine that we are now seniors in college? Because I can't. I am absolutely amazed that after next year, who knows? I don't know if I am ready for the pressure of a real world job, but I will cross that bridge when I get there. My mom says that in a year, I will be ready, and that it's OK that I am not ready yet, and I trust her. She knows just about everything. (She even knew that the dentist is closed on Fridays.)
Sometimes summer nights like these make me wish I was back in MI so I could go to the lake and go night swimming. I haven't been in a while, and I feel like the mosquitoes are just light enough that I might be able to get away with a swim without being eaten alive. I wish that everyone was home so I could have a bonfire and we could make smores (which, apparently, says spell check, is not a word) and maybe walk around the electric fence a couple of times and tell stories about "The time that we went to the cottage and you fell off the stoop" or "The time that we all play lawn darts and he through the dart through a car." Memories that have a stamp of "Good Times" on their manila envelopes, filed in the "Happy" section of the brain filing system.
Nights like this also remind me of nights where I thought the sky would explode at any moment because of the number of fireflies and the number of stars. I think that the day the world will end is the day that the stars bring memories of a thing called fireflies that went extinct when the weather changed.
Nights like this remind me of the Frisbee night when I drove the Volvo up to Lauren's house and told her, "I am in one of my crazy moods, again." Those are the moods I get in when I either have to sit at North School and have a long Boston or else go to bed because I don't want to think about how I can't do anything about my crazy mood.
The heat reminds me of lazy days on the lake shore with my little ladies, and afternoons at the park with the most inefficient fence ever, the one that caused me all summer to constantly check on where the girls where for fear that they had tumbled into the rushing water of the nearby river.
Nights like this remind me of John Mayer, the Tahoe, and Chelsea. They remind me of all the things I have left behind. They remind me that this is my first summer away from home, the first summer I am living in Boston.
It'll be a good summer, though.
The last summer, at that.
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| I haven't been this happy in April in two years. Three years. This seems to usually be the time of things happening that I wish wouldn't. But this year? Happy.
I don't know how hard this wind will blow...
....or where will go.
and i feel fine...
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