Summer is for:
Red, sticky, sweet-smelling hands from raspberry picking. Ice cream. Hyperactivity at amusement parks. Garage sales. Loitering. Tan lines. The smell of sunscreen. Popsicles. Beersicles. Listening to the rain. Holding hands so no one gets lost. Sleeping past noon. Sunglasses. Dancing in thunderstorms. Long, pointless walks. Taking naps wherever and whenever you please. The smell of insect repellent. Getting bug bites anyway. Pop rocks. Everything being sticky all the time. Stargazing. Catching frogs in creeks. Going out at 3 in the morning to watch a meteor shower. Staying out to ‘watch the meteor shower’ even though it’s cloudy. Working crappy jobs just for the perks. Laughing at everything and nothing all at the same time. Truth or Dare. Chess. Monopoly. Baby nephews who like to “sing”. Learning to walk. Learning to rollerblade. Singing Ricky Martin lyrics. Booth pictures. Pretending you’re cool because there’s no real cool people to tell you otherwise. Staying up until some obscene hour on the phone, talking about conspiracy theories and not wanting to hang up because you’re scared. Waxing poetic, philosophical, or intellectual at three in the morning while looking at nothing. Stargazing ’til sunrise. Falling asleep outside. Mixing things together and drinking them for money. Blowing bubbles. Bubble gum. Hats. Shopping. Collecting rocks in the park. Sandcastles. Panicking when the year’s gonna start again.
TOMORROW.
Crap.
Yeah.. my summer was incredible. Highlights… the picnics (Beginning, end, and middle), Ontario Place, Centre Island, stargazing. Anything else I forgot. I’m not quite sure I’m ready to go back, but I have no choice. I have to go to bed, so no rambling, maudlin entry tonight.