I am on page 27 of 829 in Les Miserables, and now that the dust is starting to settle from last semester, I kind of miss the chaos. Never satisfied…
My mom put Gettysburg on tv. I’m all about her choice—especially since I’m here on the couch with only three events on my calendar for the upcoming two weeks. I have free time for the first time since Christmas break, and I’m filling it with Les Miserables and Gettysburg. It looks like somebody needs to load up on epic mighty quick.
My hiatus from serious dating (notice how I’ve changed the name from hiatus from boys? That means I can go on date-like outings. After all, just because I’m giving myself a chance to heal after going from Mitch to Zac to Gui to Zac to Gui to Mitch with a week to rest between Mitch and Zac—and those, mind you, are just the three guys I’ve officially dated. There are about 14 names of guys I’m purposefully leaving out. See why I need a break? Oy… My dating life could be explained in a series of histograms and ven diagrams, but who has time for that? This digression was troublesome enough!) doesn’t mean I should be denying myself the company of nice guys (Dr. Bethany Brooks Lee texted to tell me so…). And being that this marks my first unattached summer since 2005, I’m planning to enjoy it.
Now comes the depressing part: making a list of summer goals. This is a pretty big deal because this could potentially be my last summer that counts as a break. You never know when that’ll be taken away, but I have the feeling that next summer will be it, so I have to make this count.
So here goes my list:
- Read Les Miserables
- Build a raft and head somewhere
- Learn how to play the harmonica
- Live outside
- Master skimboarding
- Get 5 rough pages of my capstone
- Join a jug band
Really? That’s the best I can do? Seven measly goals? If I can’t get that done, I fail. Fail, I tell you! See, this is the depressing part because in the beginning of the summer, I try to make a list of things to do, and it ends up being lame, and then, at the end of the summer, I look over it again and think of how little I’ve done. It’s like my obnoxious Christmas lists with things like:
- Mexican neighbor named Julio
- Play-doh
- Socks
- Flame thrower
- One Hundred Years of Solitude in English
- Red hunting cap
on ‘em, and then I only get socks… I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love socks—if you ever want to get on my good side, get me socks, and I’ll love you forever. It’s like giving Gideon strawberry creamcheese—FAVORITE! But you know what I mean. Sad day, there’s only so much to be done in a summer, and since this is probably the end of clear distinctions between everyday life and summer…
Well, now that I’m all depressed, I’m going to see if I can get my sister to go outside and kick a soccer ball around with me.
Chin up skip, I may only be free on weekends, but I usually try and get into as much trouble, o'em I mean fun as I can during those short few days... I do plan on going to Cedar Point, White water rafting in WV, shopping in Chicago, and whatever else I can conjure up in the meantime... now if the weather would just cooperate! And you are welcome to join in anytime, as is any other willing person. Usually if nobody else wants to go I say screw it and go by myself, so it would be good to have your smiling face :)
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