So long, Astoria.

I don't think anything can rival the feeling of sitting on the bow of a boat,
beer in hand, good music and company,
and a perfectly sunny, breezy day.

I was sitting in the library yesterday after my class working on
my Wall Street Journal assignments when I got a call
saying, "Let's go out on the lake."

And let me just say that I have become disgustingly responsible.
I go out of my way to maintain order in my apartment even when we have no visitors,
and, despite it being summer, I still try to get my assignments done early enough
so that I can spend my evenings doing some leisurely reading.

So at this moment when I received that call, I thought:
Fuck it. I need to be a kid.

So I tore up my daily to-do list and went.



When I really sit and think about it, it's so blatantly obvious
that I am crossing the threshold into real adulthood without even realizing it.
I mean, I guess this is something that needs to happen.
But I have plans. Wtf?

I'm graduating in May. Moving to Maine until December.
Coming home for Christmas. And then leaving for Costa Rica for four months.

These plans I'm pretty proud of, but daily to-do lists?!
Who is this painfully boring person?

Everyone made fun of me for taking my planner with me out to the lake yesterday,
but I never leave home without it. It's filled top to bottom with every due date, lunch date,
and play date. And I can't even find the time to go home until August.


I need more lake days.
I need more days of driving around singing to the Ataris and the Starting Line and all those other silly bands that scream "this is who you were when you allowed yourself to be carefree."

Hell, I just need to step out of my apartment more. Allow spontaneity back into my life. Let myself enjoy my freakin last summer.

Work and class and memos and assignments.

I can't wait until Farmer's Market Saturday with Gabby.