And it looks like the sky is caving in again...

Hmmm, Switchfoot.

So I have returned unto Tulsa. I miss the trees of home but I love the sky here.
This is a post to seeeeeeeeee
if I want to post some of the things I wrote this summer on here. I am a big fat wuss when it comes to my writing. I have considered posting them on here. So this post could be titled, "Considering." But it's not.

I get to wake up at 6 in the morning and play ultimate frisbee with many people. They say it will train me to lead people, somehow. But really just my right upper arm is sore.

I may end up deserting xanga entirely.

Birthday blog

Happy Birthday, me.
Why thank you, I.

Thoughts on being nineteen.
I always thought that nineteen was sort of a pointless year: at eighteen you can vote and smoke, at twenty you have begun a new decade. Nineteen just seemed stuck in the middle; just a year you had to get through to reach your twenties. But having reached nineteen, I find myself very gratefull for the cushion it provides. I am way too young to be in my twenties. Contemplating it gives me feelings akin to vertigo. Not the cool U2 kind, the Hans Christian Andersen creepy evil Vertigo kind.
That sentence will make no sense for those of you who never read fairy tales as a kid.
But anyway...thank you, nineteen. You have given me a break I didn't know I needed.

Never ever research any historical figure of whom you are particularly fond if you wish to remain that way. Nor should you ever read the introductions to volumes of poetry. Scholars have a way of destroying illusions.

Is it okay to wish upon a star on a cloudy night?

I think I might exhibit some tendencies of schitzophrenia.

Things to do

At school I was always busy; rather, I should have always been busy. There was always plenty to busy myself with.
Here, I could easily, too easily, do absolutely nothing. Starting in a week, approximately, that will change. I hope.
I wonder if I'm perky enough to be a good waitress. I shall imitate Kara. Actually, I should imitate Evan, if I were to imitate anyone. Ah well.
I begin writing again tomorrow. And I have been working on my summer reading list. This is by no means all of it. Feel free to suggest others.

• The Count of Monte Cristo
• A Tale of Two Cities
• Blue Like Jazz
• The Great Divorce ( and all things Lewis)
• The Man Who Was Thursday (and all things Chesterton)
• Gone With the Wind (this is only because I love Kara)
• Uncle Tom's Cabin (because I lied to someone once about reading it...I forget whom...)
• The Princess Bride (because I love the movie)
• and I want to finish Winston Churchill's histories of WWII. I am in the midst of Triumph and Tragedy now.

So I am looking forward to the remainder of summer. I have also other things lined up to keep myself out of mischief. Wish me well with that.

My little brother, the Space Cadet, to my mother, on Mom's proposing summer-camp-style classes for him and Littlest Sister :
"But, Mom, when you daydream all day you aren't bored!"

I looked out of the plane window this afternoon and laughed for memory of the treeless plain that is Oklahoma. Pah.

I swear I will not lose it.
The danger of summer break is that I slip back into old habits as easily as I slip into the top bunk in my old bedroom.
But I have gained too much ground this year to simply retreat. Summer is not going to be a retreat. Nor will it be a stagnation. Indeed, let it be known here and now that I will not let go. It would be so easy to just crawl back into the old mold. But I don't fit there anymore; I don't want to fit there anymore. All it requires is a bit of exertion on my part.
Goodbye, Colleen.

I just realized the beauty of coming back to New England in May. I get two springtimes. In Tulsa springtime was waning: here it is just coming into fullness. The azaleas are out and the lilac tree is heavy-scented. The dogwood smiles pinkly, and the lilies of the valley wait to be sought out. The wild plum is through blooming, but the Japanese maple is still dark and burgundy.
I took a walk when I got home. This is the most beautiful place in the world. The road winds over hills and trees crowd the sides and push back the sky.

I am going to go read Calvin and Hobbes. Then I shall sleep the sleep of the blessed and the weary.