I think I had truly underestimated my laziness until these past two weeks. I forgot how to relax during the school year. 3-am nights, kicking back and watching movies, incessantly blogging—summer is a dream come true . This is who I am—this is who I want to be. This is sad.
I have, however, accomplished quite a few things in the past few weeks–
- Finished 2/100 pages of my Chem homework!
- Read 8 pages of the first book of three books for English.
- Completed one book. (Oh man, I’m working on this)
- Resisted Starbucks
- Got in my first car accident (okay, it was minor—I was rear-ended by some woman who claimed she was distracted by the passing scenery…I guess this isn’t an accomplishment, per se)
- Researched science fair projects for next year
- Cleaned my room
- Worked out (….maybe I missed a few days here and there…..)
And this list continues—I plan on accomplishing much more. I’m living vicariously through my summer motto—beyond Hakuna Matata and the trite “YOLO”, I’ve decided that this summer represents no regrets. More clichés, I suppose. This is what I get for choosing chick flicks over other films—I’m becoming a teenage girl!
Unfortunately, my life hasn’t been interesting enough since Boston to blog about anything worthwhile. Besides the overly-enthusiastic posts about inspiration, life is simple and easygoing, and I think I’m okay with that. I’m heading to Bar Harbor, Maine tomorrow morning—a new adventure that’ll bring many new stories and pictures! The last three weeks of July are spent at Lyric Theatre, the first week working as a counselor, and the second rehearsing for Bye Bye Birdie. First week of August is Reveille, the week-long VYO camp which is unarguably the most awaited and exciting week of the summer. I have to remember to fit in 98 pages of Chem somewhere within all this business.
Last summer, we finished our basement after months of painstaking labor—the end result being a permanent hide-out for me, my music, and my books. I’ve probably talked about my cave, decorated with pillow pets and stuffed animals that have collected dust in old bins, bringing back a sense of childhood, almost. I joke that this cave is my way of being Harry Potter (minus the wizard part), but I think it truly represents my introversion. Sometimes I’ll curl up with my notebook or a book and hide out under the basement stairs in my oh-so perfect cave, concealed by the lack of lights and endless walls.
Lately, I’ve created a stack of old yearbooks on the floor of the cave, starting from 1st grade all the way to this year. The first place I turn back to is the signature page, where many wrote things like the stereotypical “HAGS”, “thanks for being my friend!”, “you’re nice”, and plain old names. There are other signatures that stand out to me—ones that talk about small, insignificant memories that were once so important. Those are my favorite. High school yearbooks are different, I’ve learned. This year, it seems that yearbook signatures consisted of novels, woven with heartfelt words, inside jokes, and endless “love you”‘s and XOXOXO’s. Perhaps this is because many of my friends this year were graduating seniors. I can’t help but feel grateful that a) I have such good friends and b) I’ll have these signatures to look back upon in a few years. It’s almost like capturing a piece of the past on one page. My own little time capsule.
In other news, I haven’t cooked, like I’ve promised myself. Rather, I’ve gone to Healthy Living, eaten balanced meals (mostly to save my wallet rather than myself), and driven back home with my gas-guzzling car. I also started an “internship” at the VYOA office, typing in information about chamber music into their online database. It gets to the point where my fingers become jelly, and I’m sick of the mundane drone of pipes in the room. Yet, there’s something I love about that place—the feeling I get whenever I remember all the memories from all the years. The people, too, give me reasons to come back. There’s just a certain je ne sais quoi about Elley Long.
I have this problem where I have begun to depend on TR as more than a blog—we’ve progressed to the point in our relationship which entails greater commitment, trust, and listening skills. Lately, my life has begun to revolve around my blog, rather than the opposite. Isn’t it funny how these things happen?
I never know how to end my late-night posts.