Last days of summer

I think the last few weeks of summer are some of my favorites. There usually tends to be a few chilly days of August where I think that's the last of it, so long its fall now and I morn a little. In the middle summer starts to feel like nothing but oppressive endless heat and dare I say kind of slow and dull. But when it just goes before you've even said goodbye, no warning just clouds and long sleeves and I find myself longing for one last day of shorts and sunshine.

I always forget that summer likes to tease its way out and I'm always thrilled when it comes back for at least one last week of blistering heat that I'm suddenly so grateful for. I know that school has started up again, which kills some of the summer spirit, but I'm not about to let that stop me from getting every last drop of summer that's left. Even if that does mean wearing slightly inappropriate sundresses to class. 

Exempt from Time

Like most people, I think I tend to exempt myself from petty plebeian concepts like age and time. It doesn't really matter how long I've been alive, I never feel old or young, I'm just normal.

It's very distressing when someone dares to do something, like age, that throws you out of your ageless bubble. I was talking with my family earlier today, and someone mentioned my littlest brother starting high school. I can't comprehend him as a teenager. I've only recently upgraded him from age 4 to age 9 in my head. Him being a teenager throws off my entire worldview. Damn kid.

Fortunately my 5 year old sister choose that moment of existential crisis to come bounding over to the webcam and show me her toy horse. When she was first born to my Dad and Stepmom right before I left for college I was initially freaked out and felt kind of replaced by this new girl. I'd rather enjoyed my unique femaleness. The older she gets the more advantages I see to having her around. She's actually fun and will interact with me in non-video game ways. Now I see another advantage. Not having grown up with her, her age has little jarring affect on my self image. But I can use non-logic to infer that if I have a little kid for a sibling, I can't be that old. Way to be use full kid.

Statues

I was looking through old photos the other day, and was reminded that when I lived in DC for the first time in Fall 07 (internship undergrad thing), I had this constant thing of posing in imitation of statues.

I know it's more than a little dorky, but I kind of love it. Thanks for the laughs, past me.

Also, am I the only one who thinks of past and future versions of myself as kind of being entirely separate people?

Not so much imitation, but I think I'm getting frisky with a bronze founding father. Yah.

I'm a psychotic food hoarder

Growing up I took a perverse delight in having a treat longer than my three brothers. I was a master at stretching out my Halloween candy until Easter came and replenished things. When we would get pizza I would take my allotted portion and slowly eat half pieces and laugh at my foolish brothers who scarfed everything the first night and now have to just have plain sandwiches for lunch. I felt so superior with my carefully kept reserves of yumminess. Sure, I never got to eat a lot, but I always had something tucked away.

It's been years since I lived with my horde of siblings, but I still like to make good food last. I'm one of those obnoxious people who will just have a nibble of chocolate and be done, not because I'm so disciplined (ha) but because I can't bear the thought of it being gone.

This crazy strategy works well with candy and other balls of edible chemicals. Which is fine, except lately we've been trying to eat actual honest to goodness fruits. Like from the ground and everything, not in roll up form.

It's been delicious, and while I still love my ice cream, crowning dinner with a bowl of strawberries is almost as awesome. Or, it would be if I wasn't a crazy person. See, I still like to save and stretch out good food. Especially good produce where there is no guarantee that there will be fresh replacements in the grocery store as fruit season is sadly coming to a close. Unfortunately the quality of fruit quickly diminishes the longer it's around, so I usually just end up with a stash of squishy sad berries. Even as I see them go bad, I still hate to eat the last ones. I hate throwing them away even more.

So now my craziness is stuck in an odd battle between trying to stretch them out, so I can always have fruit, while simultaneously getting the maximum enjoyment and avoiding waste.

It's not a pretty process. I'm one step away from making spreadsheets and formulas to determine the method for maximum fruit enjoyment. As it is, I now very carefully analyze every produce serving for maximum effectiveness and success as maintaining a perfect quality/quantity ratio.

I know that healthy eating is supposed to be good for you, but I just want to say that the fake stuff never activated my crazy this hard. I'm going to be the only victim of a strawberry related stress heart attack.

Social Honesty

Sometimes I wish it was socially acceptable to just tell someone, point plank and to their face that "I just don't like you." And then everyone would just move on.

Just that, nothing else. No statements of loathing, because it's not hate or anything remotely that emotionally powerful, just a simple dislike that surfaces when and only when you have to interact. No rationalizations for how they are a worthwhile human being, because of course they are, just not one that jives with me. Just a nice, simple, air clearing statement where everyone can acknowledge what was already obvious. 

Just generally, I wish we could be more straight with how we feel about others. Sure, there are some great reasons not to, but all the same there are sometimes it sounds so nice and simple.

First day of the Last year

It is officially the first day of my last year of school. Forever. Considering one of the main motivations behind going to law school was a desire to postpone being part of the real world, this kind of freaks me out a little. As one of my other reasons was a desire to earn money to support my life aspirations, now that the economy is what it is, that officially pushes my imminent departure into the real world to become more than just a little freakout.

For all I talk about how sick I am of student life and how excited I am to move on and be a real adult, the reality of actually doing so is terrifying. I understand being a student. I know how to take notes and pass tests. I enjoy my oodles of discretionary time. I like not wearing suits. Law school has been substantially less enjoyable than all the school before it, but as crazy as it can be, it's still school, and I know how to do school.

Most of all, right now I'm insulated from the real world. I worry about money, but honestly so long as we don't spend more than we get in student loans, we're ok. I don't like debt, but it's comforting to know that so long as we're students, we get a big check deposited in our account every semester.

Once I graduate, that all stops. I don't get a job, and not only can we not pay back all that magic money that's been keeping us afloat, but how to take care of more immediate and basic needs gets very tricky very fast.

I'm getting ahead of myself. It is scary, but it's also exciting, and it's all months away. For now I'm just going to try and get all I can out of one more year in the academic world, and start to prepare for the world after that. Complete with lots of deep breathes.

Facebook hates babies

Apparently everyone I know was busy having kids this summer. Which means I've been wasting time lately looking at baby pictures on facebook and trying to discern the tiny ways babies look different (hint, there aren't that many - it's pretty much just ears and whether they're more red or yellow).

I would just like to mention that every single time I flip though a baby album, the sidebar ad on facebook is for condoms. Every single time. Not just that, but I only see those ads when I'm looking at baby pictures.

I'm not sure if that's a rather mean spirited commentary on the babies, or some kind of creepy psychic warning for me. Either way, it's starting to weird me out.