somewhere only we know

I haven’t written for months.  I haven’t had the time.  My spring semester was filled with more of my gen-ed classes, so they weren’t classes I particularly enjoyed.  I did well in all of them, even math, but I just did not enjoy my schedule.  Even my history class-Historical Methods and Interpretations 270, wasn’t much fun.  I didn’t actually learn any history-just how to write it.  Which is good, I guess, but boring as hell most days.

I’ve been home for fifteen days now.  Jesus.  Fifteen days.  Feels like an eternity.  Two weeks at school would fly by-but two weeks at home have dragged.  According to the countdown I have set up, there are ninety days left until the glorious date of August 21st, which is the first day of band camp.  I find it sad how badly I want summer to be over.  Summer is supposed to be a fun time of relaxation and vacation.  I shouldn’t want to pack my car up right now and drive back to school.  But I do.

Things have picked up a little bit since I started working.  I went around the first Monday I was home to find a job.  I got really damn lucky, when the second place I walked into said that they were looking to hire.  I’m getting at least thirty hours a week there, which is awesome seeing as I have to come up with $1500 dollars for the Germany trip next May.  Work is good.  I keep busy so it goes pretty quickly and my bosses are really nice.  I like working with cute dogs all day long.  I’m already scheduled to work over breaks which is a relief to know that they want to keep me on through the school year.  It keeps me out of the house and it’s keeping my finances afloat.  My schedule is flexible enough so that I do have a few days off a week, but I’d almost rather be working almost every day and making money.

Being home has made me thankful for the people I met this year at school.  My friends from college are the most amazing group of people I’ve ever met.  Amanda and I talked about this once when we went to Dunkin Donuts one day.  How we feel closer to the people we’ve met here only months ago than we do to the people at home that we’ve known for years.  And for the most part, I do.  I do still have friends at home, but there’s a lot less of them that I count as close.  It’s also made me realize how little I mean to many people back here.  I’m sick and tired and done with people that only talk to me when they need me or when they have problems.  I realized that when I got a phone call one day from someone I considered a friend.  She had gotten hurt and wanted me to tell me what was wrong.  I myself was sick from my allergies and was suffering from a double ear infection.  She didn’t give a damn about me or what was wrong with me.  When she asked how I was, I said I’d been better, because anyone that’s ever had a double ear infection can tell you that’s the truth.  Her exact reaction was “Oh,” before she dove into her own issues.

Really now?  Really?  I’m done putting up with people.  Friendship is a two way street.  And I fully believe that.  I still have friends from high school that still care about me; I know that because they also put in an effort to keep our friendship alive while I was at school.  From my high school class, that didn’t happen with the people I once called friends.  I’m done with being the only one trying to have a relationship with people.  I’m done.  I don’t care if I sound like a bitch, but I’m really over people that don’t care enough to text or call just to see how I’m doing.

This is why I miss the people that really count.  My best friends from school.  We’re all strewn out about the area that it’s going to be hard to all get together because gas is so damn expensive and we’re all poor college kids.  But I know we’ll get together at least once to go see Deathly Hallows Part II, and there will be MusikFest and other things we all want to go to.  So hopefully they happen.  And if not, we’ll just pick up where we left off, going to Johnny’s for breakfast during band camp and actually knowing what we’re doing a little bit better this time around.  And in my suite next year, with nine awesome people.  Being neighbors with the best neighbor ever, for the second year in a row and getting into crazy misadventures with her.  Having a single on the top floor, in the best building on campus.  I can’t fathom what’s going to happen next year, but I know it’s going to fly.  And I’m excited for it to start, but scared for it to end.

And I think the summer will get better once my high school friends are done for the year.  They still have a month left, but now that things are starting to wind down they’ll be around more and we’ll be able to hang out properly.  I miss them all, so much.  They’re what still matters to me in this town, because not much is keeping me here any more.  They’re closer to me than everyone from school, so I’ll be able to see them on a more regular basis.  We’ll be able to laugh and play and swim and drive around with the windows down just doing the stupid little things that create memories and strengthen friendships.  And I’m so excited for that.

Being home and pretty solitary has made me truly realize what I have.  My relationship hasn’t suffered from the distance between us, although thankfully it’s not too far.  We’ve already seen each other twice, once for Emma’s birthday party and the other for commencement celebrations.  The next time we’ll see each other is Memorial Day, so I’m hoping this week goes by quickly.  We’re going to try to make time for each other, but we’re both working and he’s got things to do and so do I.  I’m not one for sap or gush, but this is real.  I love every moment together and apart.  We don’t have a ‘song’ or anything, we have like thirty.  We’re both not perfect people, and we accept that about each other.  We had a strong friendship going into the relationship, and we still have that.  We can talk to each other about anything.  He’s one of the few people I feel comfortable completely opening up to which is the first time that a boyfriend has made his way into that category.  He understands that my last…whatever you call it…convinced me that I was worthless, that I was nothing, that I was just some stupid whore.  Kevin knows my story and he accepts me for the good and the bad.  He’s made it his goal to fix me and get me to believe what he tells me, that I am beautiful, that I am the best, that I am amazing.  I know his story, the good and the bad, as well.  And I’m so lucky to have him in my life.

I’m looking forward to the future, but I don’t want to completely skip over the summer, despite every desire I have to make it August.  I want to have a fun summer with friends I haven’t seen in a while and make the memories like I had last summer.  Here’s to an amazing freshman year, and to the years that are gonna follow.  Soon enough, it’ll be time to collect my things and head home.

-7 days

I have enjoyed the best summer ever.  From two incredible vacations, to seeing DCI both nights at one of the biggest shows of the season with one of my best friends, to all of the random get togethers with the friends that have made my high school experience truly unique, this summer has gone by much faster than I would have hoped.  I’m glad that this summer was as amazing as it was, because it helped to build up my friendships and has helped me to get closer to a lot of people.

I leave for college in a week.  And it is a very strange feeling to know that tomorrow many of my friends will be going to band camp, and I won’t be there.  I’m not sad about it; I had my time with that band.  It is time to start something new.  But it is still weird to not be going, seeing as my past four summers have all ended with band camp at the high school. 

I am more than excited to start a new adventure with a new band with a show that I can’t tell what the theme is.  I’ve missed marching more than I expected too.  I haven’t marched since March (ha, irony!) since my knee kicked me off the line.  It’s also weird how I missed marching trumpet-something I didn’t expect to.  While I loved playing baritone, and loved learning bass clef and a new instrument, I missed marching trumpet. 

So in a week’s time, I’ll be all settled into my dorm and at a band practice.  I don’t have the worries most people have about school.  I’ve been becoming friendly with a lot of people at Moravian, so I’m not worried about the whole OMG-I’m-gonna-know-nobody-there thing.  I really haven’t encountered a mean person, and all of the people I’m going to be living with in my suite seem like really chill people.  I’m not worried about the roommate situation, because I don’t have one-single room as a freshman?  Yeah, I’m pumped.    

This post doesn’t have some heartfelt meaning.  I’m not angrily blogging about how stupid my local political circle is, and I’m not sharing some sweet message I saw in an event that took place as I was going through my daily routine.  This is just me, excited for college, and unsure what to do for the next week.

summertime (and the living is easy)

I go to bed at one or later, I don’t wake up until ten or later.  There’s a party happening nearly every weekend.  No school.  No homework.  Everyone wants to go to the beach.  Sales of aloe and bug spray soar.

It is summer, kids.  Embrace it.

I told a friend that it’s like we’re in the purgatory between high school and college.  Technically, we belong to neither.  We don’t feel like college students just yet, and the diplomas we have made it known that we aren’t high school kids anymore. 

Personally, I enjoy it.  It feels like I have no responsibilities. 

Of course, I do.  I don’t have an official job this summer, rather, a hodgepodge of whatever I can pick up.  Babysitting, house sitting, temping (yes, I have seen that episode of The Office where the temp lights the building on fire.  I’m going to try really hard not to do that), anything.  I’m pretty much self-employed, which is nice.  To an extent, I can pick and choose when I want to work.  As an 18-year-old, I have important things to do.  Like sleep until noon and watch the History Channel and blog. 

I look forward to this summer more than any other because of my lack of responsibilities.  Last year saw me frantically studying for my SATs and doing homework for three AP classes.  The summer before that, it was two APs.  Every summer before that, I had a list of books to read.  This year, I do have assigned reading.  It’s called Colors of the Mountain, by Da Chen.  It’s not that long (a hit at orientation) and from what I’ve heard, rather good.  Chen will be speaking to my class when we all meet at school in August.  The book won’t be a difficult chore for me, as I’m a pretty big geek when it comes to this.  Yesterday, I was outside for an hour on my hammock reading Kurt Vonnegut.  I don’t foresee the book becoming a problem.

I look forward to this summer for a number of reasons.  Yesterday, my doctor told me that the progress that I’ve made with my leg is nothing short of incredible.  The tear was, in his words, “massive”.  I credit my recovery to being young, healthy, and determined.  My determination to get better lies in my excitement to go on vacation, as this vacation is going to be the best weekend of my life.  Three days, two nights, in Universal Orlando at the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.  I will need to be physically escorted off of the premise by no less than seven muscle-bound guards on the third day. 

I also look forward to going with my best friend to go see DCI in August.  The first night we’ll be in the lot, the second night, we’ll be actually watching the field shows.  Eastern Classic is one of the bigger shows, and all of the best corps in the world will be there.  Cavies, Devils, SCV, Cadets.  All of them.  Alyssa’s had a countdown ever since we got the tickets.  DCI has always managed to blow me away; the talent and the intensity are both things I wish I had both as a person and in any band I was in. 

A few friends and I are planning a few beach trips to slip in there before some of us leave for college and band camp and before they start their band camp.  I want to make memories this summer.  I already have, but I want to make more. 

Not every day of summer will be perfect.  There will be the days where it’s so humid my hair will take over.  There will be the summer drama.  I accept that this will happen.  But I know that I want my last summer here before taking the next big jump to be as perfect as humanly possible. 

Summer 2010, bring it.