Impromptu...

I never did look at the summer as a time for relaxing. Not in that lay-around-the-house way at least. It's always been a time for me to run around like a maniac shoving as many random plans in as possible. And I do mean random.

Liz made the mistake of playfully saying 'come visit meeee' while bored online on Saturday. Bit by the summer bug and a new haircut with a mind of its own, I said 'okay', convinced Papa he really wanted to come with and drove the 4 hours to SMC. It was practically pointless - Liz will be back in a week - but in that it was absolutely perfect. A new group of people to question my not drinking, falling asleep to 'Quantum Leap'...twice, enchilada's, the 'grand tour' of SMC, and constant harassment for my no-stopping policy on the way down. I was there for less than 24 hours. It was totally worth it.

This afternoon holds a mini-bbq. Just a precursor for the wonderfulness that is to be a Pool-Party at the Woodward's filled summer. We have strawberries and this excites me to no end.

I'm in a good place for the moment. Sweet.

drumroll please...

Well...here it is before...















And now...



All gone? All gone...



(Out of focus, so check out that sundress and let me know how you feel about it...don't get too attached though; I'm probably returning it as it makes me look a little pregnant)



It tastes shorter...




















Sooo now what?

Great Expectations

I think I'm expecting the haircut I'm scheduled for in an hour to change my life. Like suddenly by having a new hairstyle things will fall perfectly into place. Short hair is the answer to any and all questions. This is ridiculous. In actuality a haircut will change nothing at best and make me want to hide in my house at worst. But I believe the nervousness I'm feeling in relation to this appointment is not related to the later, but is rather anticipation for something that will inevitably not happen. Does that mean regardless of the outcome I will be disappointed?

Hmm.

No purpose...

I feel compelled to start writing again. Maybe it's the summer. Maybe it's the feeling like everything is just sitting in my brain and stagnating there and maybe if I move it around through something like this it will sort itself out. I have this picture of my brain like a Rubick's cube now. Maybe that makes a lot of sense.

I have nothing to actually say. That's a lie. I do have things to say but not the words to do so. I don't even know what those things are exactly, to be honest, but I know they're there. Just fuzzy and out of focus. My brain feels fuzzy. Now I have this picture of my brain like a peach.

Something isn't sitting right. I'm restless. I'm not content. People refuse to believe that it's just because I'm single. For awhile I wasn't one of those people. Now I'm thinking of joining their ranks. Something bigger is the issue here. I'm not doing enough and I'm doing too much. I want to change but I don't want to give up what I have. There is no in between on these issues. My resolution I promised lasted all of about a month and a half. Then I started talking again. Zero willpower. There have been changes, I've noticed. Want is still there but action is not. I've been more under control. I still care too much. That last part is why I say that I have been unsuccessful - it was the important part.

I'm projecting. Thinking ahead and making a plan. I think things will be staying very much the same as they are until I move to Georgia. I can't foresee anything happening that is going to really register in the long run happening before then. The big question is can I maintain my sanity if that really is the case. Or will I finally stop waivering between extremes and force a change before then? Zero willpower. I submit that I will not. And I will be waiting out the next two years. They'll be enjoyable enough. I will laugh and I will make unforgettable memories and fast friends. But I will be discontented. Admitting this alternately makes me feel better and worse.

I came to the conclusion awhile ago that I am not actually smart. I am just very good at school. I think this is going to bite me in the ass in approximately 5.5 years. I will be no good at real life. Perhaps I should consider a field invovling a longer schooling process. As if a doctorate wasn't enough.

I'm getting my hair cut tomorrow. Short. I haven't tried something like this before. It's a change. I'm terrified.

No purpose to this post. The fuzzy Rubick's cube still has 6 different colors on each side. And to top it off I write in half-sentences and bad metaphors. Maybe picking this up again was a bad idea for your sakes. My apologies.