Sunday, August 28
Saturday, August 20
The sun sets outside the window.
Sad but happy because you just realized that the heat is bothering you.
No matter what anyone says, sweat on your cheeks is never worth the look of a healthy glow. never.
Guilt creeps in.
You've barely had a summer, you should be begging the sun to stay.
But in this exact moment.
Releif from the mind-numbing wave of heat exhaustion is all you care about.
Summer, see what you've done.
Your absence has turned me into a pansy.
Wednesday, August 17
so I bought this car back in spring and its no when Harry met Sally but I love the little red chugger with all of my heart and with all of its flaws.
It's cute and park-almost-anywhere size and has only 2 doors and one side view mirror, because apparently the right side one is optional, who knew?
There is no lighter in my little friend, so I can't charge my phone or ipod, which can get life threatening when you use a phone for emergencies while driving as often as I do, and when you leave the house with an almost dead phone battery as often as I do.
It is also seriously lacking a cup holder of any sort. But my make-shift slide around Starbucks to-go cardboard 4sie does the job, if you don't mind split coffee. And I don't because split coffee means a free coffee air freshener, so who could complain?
The only apparent downside is that it's a 4 speed and I was told It would never make it over 100km/hr. But clearly this someone knows nothing about ambition and highways.
When first looking at it, because its so cute and rust free, they had to assure me that it was a 91. A 91. Thats only 1 year younger than me. and I'm not capable of rusting. So I haaad to buy it so it could tell me all of its stay-youthful-looking-forever secrets. And I did, from a previous owner who didn't see why owning it for a period of time and using it for a period of time should lower its value, so he refused to take less than he paid for it and I was dead set now on owning what I saw as already rightfully mine, so I over paid. But jokes on him because I save such ridiculous amounts of money of gas, like everyday, that I now feel like I under paid. and I don't even care about the gas prices and wouldn't still if they went up.
That's right. I said it. If they went up. Me. Still not caring.
The car did need some work, like a fuel pump and an oil change and a new belt. But really not much at all compared to the ones I was looking at that needed new clutches and new interiors and new exteriors and new engines and what not.
One thing that my trusty mechanic did say it would need it a new exhaust system pipe funny word something soon. basically the muffler and its attachments were secretly rusting and had been re-welded too many times to last and he predicted that it would only hold until fall.
Well was he wrong.
It lasted until 4 days ago when I was driving my stretch of road and about 10 mins out of town the muffler fell off with a cablang-bam, eeeeak slash brumm brum brum.
Rusted right through.
On the highway.
It's no big deal or anything.
Tuesday, August 16
summer camp is my slow death.
Its wonderful. and I am growing and I am realizing who I am and who I am in Christ more and more everyday, and I am more in love with life everyday, but It is killing me slowly. I have what they call one of the easy jobs, being the head lifeguard and all. I do have a wicked tan and get my evenings off, but having an, "easy job" makes it all that much harder when it is hard, because you have no one to share your burdens with. No one who could even honestly listen, for they're all thinking I need to get over myself and realize how good I have it.
I know I have it good, but that doesn't make me less tired. that doesn't make me miss home less, and it doesn't protect my heart from the trauma that its exposed to when you spread yourself this thin emotionally.
Sunday, August 14
I blame it on a combination of a slow love life and student loan drama.
But I never could deny my heart like that. not after reading this post on a favourite blog of mine.
" I even had drawings, future wife
by Peter DeWolf on July 25, 2011
Like Barbie before me, I’ve long thought about my dream house.
Even before my flirtation with becoming an architect or engineer.
I came up with some pretty rough floorplans, drawn on lined paper with a blotting pen.
But it was an impressive house.
I still think about it from time to time.
But I don’t require some of the things I felt like I needed in that version.
No built-in pizza oven.
No walk-in closet for my baseball caps.
Probably not even a moat.
My priorities have changed.
Yet there are some things I’d still like to see:
- A giant kitchen/dining room table.
Friends will drop by and you and I’ll sit what others would mistakenly call “unnecessarily close” together. I’ll listen to their stories while placing my hand on your thigh under the table. You’ll smile. You’ll know that the first squeeze means “I love you.” And the second squeeze means “You and me on this table before these sumbitches even get out of the driveway.”
- Two over-sized desks facing each other in a study/office area.
Your desk will be modern and white and pretty. Mine will be wooden and utilitarian.
They’ll be open enough at the bottom that we can play footsies. Always.
Even when you’re crankybutt and feeling a little guilty about it and wondering if I’m mad at you…
My foot will sneak over and just barely touch yours.
And you’ll know.
Sometimes you’ll catch me staring at you.
“Whaaaat?” you’ll ask.
“I’m just smitten is all.”
And you’ll shake your head and go back to your work.
Before looking back up to make sure I’m still doing it.
- A large dry erase board.
Our calendar will be there. As will our to-do and grocery lists. Most of it will be written by me because you’ll only think of things to add to it when you’re “Oh, babe, I’m soooooo comfy” on the couch. And sometimes when you’ll walk by you’ll find silly notes and drawings.
One afternoon you’ll find something like this:
[picture of my hand] + [picture of your bum] = :)
They’ll all have a common theme: I love you and you’re ridiculously cute.
- A room for my adorably cute niece.
OUR adorably cute niece. I love how that sounds.
- A humongous and comfy couch.
We’ll use it for summer afternoon underwear-clad snuggles, napping on and off throughout a baseball game on tv, making out a lot, with the doors locked and knowing it’s not about who you’re hiding from, but who you’re hiding with.
And when the kids come, they’ll sit between us on the couch — as we look at each other over their noggins — and they’ll fight to stay awake. They’ll know that bedtimes are an adversary they don’t want to lose to. Finally we’ll convince them to go to bed, under the agreement that I’ll tell them stories. And I’ll pick them up off the couch and you’ll slump over and stretch out. I’ll toss them in their beds, tuck them in, and tell them a story that I make up based on the plots of Cinderella, Lord of the Rings, and a second season episode of Boy Meets World.
And when I’m sure they’re finally asleep, I’ll plant gentle kisses on each of their little foreheads, and tip toe out of the room.
I’ll be a surprised to find you in the hallway watching.
And you’ll kiss me.
Like you mean it.
- A bed.
You’ll notice I didn’t add any variation of “large” when describing it. I don’t want it to be super big. I want to be close to you. Even when we’re sleeping. And even when little Einstein-haired kids waddle into our room in the middle of the night because monsters are playing Hungry Hungry Hippos in their closet, as monsters do, and climb aboard.
I want us all cuddled together as a family.
Even though they’ll be bed hogs like you.
Even though I’m a giant.
I want us to stay close.
Marrying rich is for the weak.
This kind of love will come
Saturday, August 6
then last week happened and I am so beyond happy that if that's all the summer we get, I can live with it.
but please oh please let it be just the beginning.