I won’t try to argue with the fact that Christmas is the best day of the year. But the first day of summer vacation is a close second. What other day fills you with that exhilarating rush of freedom, provided by the knowledge you have over two months ahead of you to spend any way you’d like? There are some limitations (not enough money to go bowling, mothers sometimes unwilling to give rides to friend’s houses, extra summer chores, etc.) but those obstacles hardly stand in the way of two free months.
As I did last summer, I composed a list of things to do during the vacation. My calendar is nearly blank now, but I’ve been filling in the empty boxes with Stuff To Do. Tomorrow, I’m going to write funny quotes and also “inspirational” quotes every few squares on the sidewalk out in front of and beside my house, and also glue a quarter to the ground. That way, people strolling past will have a reason to look down (read: to see the quotes) and they’ll spot this COIN. I can never resist the temptation to bend down and pick up a coin lying on the ground. It’s so amazing, like an omen or something. Whenever I get change after a purchase, I always toss a coin on the ground once I exit the store, so somebody can experience the joy of finding it. I doubt anybody in the human race will ever be able to spot a quarter on the ground and just leave it there. No organism in the world has that degree of self-control. But anyway, I’m going to be watching out my front window, peering over the sill and keeping a tally of how many people either don’t notice the coin, or spot it and leave it (gasp!) and how many people jump on it and start scrabbling at its edges and try to pry it off, to no avail, and then straighten up and toss back their heads and strut off pretending the incident had never even happened. It’ll take up the whole morning, probably, searching for good quotes, laying down trails of chalk spelling them out, gluing a coin to the ground, then retreating to my window to look on and chuckle. Then, I’m going to walk to Leland with a stopwatch and pedometer, record how many steps and minutes it took to get there, then return and walk back, record, come back home, walk back to Leland, record, and so on until I have a considerable amount of data to work with. I’ll average out the amount of steps and minutes so that when school starts up again (shudder) I’ll know exactly what time I need to leave for school in the morning in order to arrive just as the bell rings. I’m gonna have to start all over again: last summer I did this with the middle school on two different days, and got it down to a science. I calculated the average and found that in order to arrive at 8:10 exactly, I would need to leave at 8:06. I usually got there either on time or a minute-or-so late, which didn’t matter because I’d always make it to class before the final bell.
Today was a slower day. I woke up at quarter to noon, no lie. (It’s the first day of summer-- I deserve it, right?) After a shower, I biked over to my grandma’s house to walk her dog for about an hour. Then I moseyed around her neighborhood and the one next to hers a little on my bike, riding down the streets and deciding which house I liked best on each street. After a while I returned home, ate a late lunch of cantaloupe cubes and leftover steamed broccoli, and walked to the library with my sister. I promptly shoved several girl-books into my sack, you know, those ones about a girl who goes to school and, I don’t know, gets in a fight with her friends or something, develops a crush on somebody, deals with some type of queen bee/mean girl person, and then works it all out by the last chapter. The literature equivalent of a chick flick. I devour those things. They’re perfect light summer reading. I picked up some books more stimulating to the brain just to make myself feel less guilty, then bought a mango Italian soda at the cafe while my sister browsed the DVDs and music.
I went home and made teensy hamburger patties from a package of ground beef, then sliced up tomatoes and onions and stuff and made a salad. We were going to have “sliders,” my mom had said as she handed me the ground beef, as in “fun-size.” Both of those terms are hers, not mine. I just shrugged and headed to the grill. I don’t like hamburgers, but these thingies were actually delicious. I made very skinny little patties and put a lot of pepper on them before grilling. Plus I slathered mine with Dijon mustard and piled on a whole bunch of pickles and onions. AND I made cantaloupe-flavored frozen yogurt for dessert which I am very proud of because I didn’t even use a recipe. :) I just plopped vanilla yogurt and diced cantaloupe in the rarely used ice cream machine and hoped everything would turn out well. Which it did. It tasted like cantaloupy yogurt.
So anyway, this post is from yesterday. I hopped onto the computer really quick today to post this. Just a reminder, I’ll be gone from the seventeenth this month to July 3rd. I’ll be home just in time for the Fourth of July, which is obviously not celebrated over there. I just hope I’m not jet-lagged. I’ve never had jet-lag before because of my never having left the time zone-ness, so I’m kinda worried. Is it scary? Does it kill you?