Summer gives me a slight case of melancholia. (Yes, I believe that to be a word. And if it's not, it should be.) I think of having a "summer read", of "summer activities" and even "summer vacation". Are these things really applicable? When I was a student, o so many years ago, summer reading meant something! It meant, I don't have to read anything that is required. I get to read what I want to read. I get to read Agatha Christie mysteries for three months straight, if I feel like it, dammit! But how is summer any different from winter or fall, other than temperature and the amount of daylight? I still have to get up and go to work at the same time everyday. Still have to clean my apartment and do laundry and think about what I'm making for dinner. I did take a vacation, but it is only a coincidence that it happened to be during the "summer" months.
Yet, every year, I feel it. That tingle of excitement and expectation of SUMMER BREAK!! Somewhere in the back of my sense memory I think I'm supposed to be doing something ELSE, because it is summer, and that I'm not supposed to stick to my regular routine. I have a summer reading list. Heck. My local library has a summer reading program for adults. Read three books by August 15, write a little blurb about each one and recieve a free $4 Starbucks coffee card. It's not just me, EVERYONE thinks there is supposed to be a difference to our routines because of the season. But the work thing! It just kills me. How do I find time to devote hours of unhurried ease to reading or laying around in the sun or napping when I have to keep to my daily obligations? Ridiculous.
Melancholia. That's what I have, baby.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
I know you through your blog
Since I got back from Maui on Saturday, I've been catching up on two of my friends' lives via their blogs and just itching to write something on mine. Composing lovely stories of our time in Hawaii, books I've read. Music I've heard. And today, I got nothin'. I do think it's wacky that I know more about Deron and Michael because they publish these blogs than from actually talking with them face to face--e-mail to e-mail, what have you. Is this the next step in keeping in touch? I admit that I really enjoy knowing I can read their online musings to hear about daily life...it's not as good as getting to see them, but it is better than nothing. And then, when I say to another friend "Oh yes, my friend Michael's daughter is 10 1/2 pounds now!" I sound like I am in close contact with him. Gosh. That sort of sounds sad, now that I think of it. Because I'm not. And since I live in the lazy correspondence age, I wouldn't necessarily have know that about Vivien if I hadn't read the blog. Not to say that I don't on occasion e-mail Michael. I do. We do. ON OCCASION.
Feels like every few months I have an attack of lack of pen pal blues. Looks like I'm into that, right now. In fact, I bet if I read back on these here blog entries, I'd even see another entry that mentions this very thing. Poor Heidi has a letter started way back in May that is still in the notebook it was composed in. How is she to know that I have very good intentions, unless I follow through with them?
How does anyone know that thousands, or hundreds, or even twenty miles away that they are in your thoughts? I claim to dislike talking on the phone, and I do, to some extent. A lot of it is that I have crappy phone reception at home and I can't seem to hear half of what is being said to me. Then there is my I'm on the west coast and lots of my friends are on the east coast excuse. So, when my "free" minutes are activated, it is already midnight out there. I work on weekends, so talking during those days (also known as "free") are spent talking to LOTS of people which makes the thought of talking to more people, (people I actually know and love) not very enticing. Sorry kids.
Long ago, the last time I visited New York, Micheal and I talked about how we used to write letters to one another when he was living in Seattle and I was still in Phoenix. (Gosh. Another life time ago...) Why not start up again? And I think we tried. But it feels so much easier to do nothing and to check in on his blog.
Feels like every few months I have an attack of lack of pen pal blues. Looks like I'm into that, right now. In fact, I bet if I read back on these here blog entries, I'd even see another entry that mentions this very thing. Poor Heidi has a letter started way back in May that is still in the notebook it was composed in. How is she to know that I have very good intentions, unless I follow through with them?
How does anyone know that thousands, or hundreds, or even twenty miles away that they are in your thoughts? I claim to dislike talking on the phone, and I do, to some extent. A lot of it is that I have crappy phone reception at home and I can't seem to hear half of what is being said to me. Then there is my I'm on the west coast and lots of my friends are on the east coast excuse. So, when my "free" minutes are activated, it is already midnight out there. I work on weekends, so talking during those days (also known as "free") are spent talking to LOTS of people which makes the thought of talking to more people, (people I actually know and love) not very enticing. Sorry kids.
Long ago, the last time I visited New York, Micheal and I talked about how we used to write letters to one another when he was living in Seattle and I was still in Phoenix. (Gosh. Another life time ago...) Why not start up again? And I think we tried. But it feels so much easier to do nothing and to check in on his blog.
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