The Last Summer (also up on dA)
Where did my summer go? Honestly. This summer was special, because it was my very last summer vacation. Possibly ever. This is my last year of college (if all goes according to plan), and after graduation in May I must officially enter the adult world and get a real job, the kind that does not come with summer vacations. Frightening thought, no?
Luckily I didn’t waste my last summer on something as silly as “work.” I did, however, manage to have a few adventures, even without any money to spend. This place is long overdue for an update. Which of course means that long journal entry is long.
I did manage to make it back from London in one piece and without causing any international incidents, which I suppose is a win. Of course I missed it immediately (mostly because of the weather; where I live is obscenely hot), but I suppose it was good to be home. I really hope I get an opportunity to go back (and really can’t wait for that opportunity to arrive) because I feel like I didn’t get to do all that I wanted to (like a soccer match, or traveling more, within England and to Scotland and even over to Europe) and that I barely scratched the surface of everything London itself had to offer.
Because London itself is effing massive of course, but still.
Probably what I miss most (other than the weather) is the Tube system. I know we didn’t get along at first, but we turned into great friends. It was so convenient not having to drive and yet having a reasonably reliable system in place that could take me virtually anywhere I wanted to go within the city. And not having to drive. I can’t tell you how weird it was seeing pickup trucks again, or all this immense space.
At the end of the semester my family came over for about a week, so I got to say goodbye to the city while introducing it to them, which was nice in a way.
Anyway, if you want to see more of my adventures overseas, feel free to check out this journal here. I had to keep one for a class, but that class is over now.
Once I was home again, like I said, I didn’t work (which kind of sucked since I had given London pretty much all of my money). It wasn’t really for lack of trying. I applied to several places and even got one interview, but I think the real problem was that everyone was looking for a job and I would be leaving in the fall, which doesn’t give most places much incentive to hire me. I did put my resume through a temp agency, but didn’t hear much.
Instead of work I was once again flown out to California to visit/babysit my younger cousins. The girls were four and five and the oldest had just finished her first year of school, which was kind of exciting for her. They were both really sweet and I’m glad I get the chance to be around them, even just a little.
On my last day there, my uncle took me and the kids into San Diego, where he’d grown up, and down to the beach to see seals, which was cool
Unfortunately, two nights before I got back home, my cat, Michelangelo, apparently went out as he often did at night and just never came home. I searched for weeks and put up fliers, but he was just gone.
I got Mikey when I was in middle school, after two straight years of asking for nothing more every birthday and Christmas. He came home with me from the animal shelter shortly before New Year’s, and for the next ten years he was my best friend.
I’ve never really been very good at making friends; I hide it pretty well and I guess I’ve at least partially grown out of it, but I’m pretty socially awkward. I just don’t know how to act or what to say around new people, and frequently end up feeling pretty embarrassed about the entire ordeal, but none of that ever mattered to Mikey. I may have been a dorky little kid without a clue, but he always wanted to cuddle.
His favorite place to be was always wherever I was (whenever I paced around the house, like I often do, he would sit somewhere and watch me, then snag my shirt with a claw as I went past so I would hold still), and I hated having to leave him so often and for so long to go to school. He didn’t like to be picked up, but he loved to cuddle, and any day that started with him sleeping on the pillow beside me was bound to be a good day.
It may seem ridiculous to get so broken up over a cat, but Mikey wasn’t just a cat, he was my cat, my baby. When I got him he was just a scrawny, half grown little thing with a high pitched, yowling meow that demanded my attention and a deep, loud purr that filled a room demanded my love. But he grew into something sleek and sweet and beautiful, my so-called “Black Panther of Death.”
I don’t know where he was before the animal shelter, but with me he lived a good life: ten years of food on demand, fresh milk to drink, high places to perch, and as many chin scratches as he could want. And I’m bawling like an infant right now just thinking about how he won’t be there waiting for me the next time I go home.
Now I’m back at school at last (getting here was another adventure in and of itself) and finally mostly moved in. It’s a new apartment this year since all of the roommates I started out with have either left the school or moved off campus. Classes start tomorrow and it’s looking to be a pretty good semester.
Except I don’t have my car anymore.
On the drive down (a five to six hour drive, depending on your route and traffic), with all of my stuff split between my car and my mom’s rental, with my younger brother in the passenger seat, another car cut directly across my lane, giving me no time to stop and no room to swerve to avoid him. My left front corner plowed into his right rear. His bumper fell off, my fender crumpled inward and my tire exploded. The car had to be towed and, given the age of the vehicle and the extent of the body damage, it’s probably totaled.
My brother and I are fine, though, so, yeah, here’s hoping that’s the worst of what happens this semester.
Luckily I didn’t waste my last summer on something as silly as “work.” I did, however, manage to have a few adventures, even without any money to spend. This place is long overdue for an update. Which of course means that long journal entry is long.
I did manage to make it back from London in one piece and without causing any international incidents, which I suppose is a win. Of course I missed it immediately (mostly because of the weather; where I live is obscenely hot), but I suppose it was good to be home. I really hope I get an opportunity to go back (and really can’t wait for that opportunity to arrive) because I feel like I didn’t get to do all that I wanted to (like a soccer match, or traveling more, within England and to Scotland and even over to Europe) and that I barely scratched the surface of everything London itself had to offer.
Because London itself is effing massive of course, but still.
Probably what I miss most (other than the weather) is the Tube system. I know we didn’t get along at first, but we turned into great friends. It was so convenient not having to drive and yet having a reasonably reliable system in place that could take me virtually anywhere I wanted to go within the city. And not having to drive. I can’t tell you how weird it was seeing pickup trucks again, or all this immense space.
At the end of the semester my family came over for about a week, so I got to say goodbye to the city while introducing it to them, which was nice in a way.
Anyway, if you want to see more of my adventures overseas, feel free to check out this journal here. I had to keep one for a class, but that class is over now.
Once I was home again, like I said, I didn’t work (which kind of sucked since I had given London pretty much all of my money). It wasn’t really for lack of trying. I applied to several places and even got one interview, but I think the real problem was that everyone was looking for a job and I would be leaving in the fall, which doesn’t give most places much incentive to hire me. I did put my resume through a temp agency, but didn’t hear much.
Instead of work I was once again flown out to California to visit/babysit my younger cousins. The girls were four and five and the oldest had just finished her first year of school, which was kind of exciting for her. They were both really sweet and I’m glad I get the chance to be around them, even just a little.
On my last day there, my uncle took me and the kids into San Diego, where he’d grown up, and down to the beach to see seals, which was cool
Unfortunately, two nights before I got back home, my cat, Michelangelo, apparently went out as he often did at night and just never came home. I searched for weeks and put up fliers, but he was just gone.
I got Mikey when I was in middle school, after two straight years of asking for nothing more every birthday and Christmas. He came home with me from the animal shelter shortly before New Year’s, and for the next ten years he was my best friend.
I’ve never really been very good at making friends; I hide it pretty well and I guess I’ve at least partially grown out of it, but I’m pretty socially awkward. I just don’t know how to act or what to say around new people, and frequently end up feeling pretty embarrassed about the entire ordeal, but none of that ever mattered to Mikey. I may have been a dorky little kid without a clue, but he always wanted to cuddle.
His favorite place to be was always wherever I was (whenever I paced around the house, like I often do, he would sit somewhere and watch me, then snag my shirt with a claw as I went past so I would hold still), and I hated having to leave him so often and for so long to go to school. He didn’t like to be picked up, but he loved to cuddle, and any day that started with him sleeping on the pillow beside me was bound to be a good day.
It may seem ridiculous to get so broken up over a cat, but Mikey wasn’t just a cat, he was my cat, my baby. When I got him he was just a scrawny, half grown little thing with a high pitched, yowling meow that demanded my attention and a deep, loud purr that filled a room demanded my love. But he grew into something sleek and sweet and beautiful, my so-called “Black Panther of Death.”
I don’t know where he was before the animal shelter, but with me he lived a good life: ten years of food on demand, fresh milk to drink, high places to perch, and as many chin scratches as he could want. And I’m bawling like an infant right now just thinking about how he won’t be there waiting for me the next time I go home.
Now I’m back at school at last (getting here was another adventure in and of itself) and finally mostly moved in. It’s a new apartment this year since all of the roommates I started out with have either left the school or moved off campus. Classes start tomorrow and it’s looking to be a pretty good semester.
Except I don’t have my car anymore.
On the drive down (a five to six hour drive, depending on your route and traffic), with all of my stuff split between my car and my mom’s rental, with my younger brother in the passenger seat, another car cut directly across my lane, giving me no time to stop and no room to swerve to avoid him. My left front corner plowed into his right rear. His bumper fell off, my fender crumpled inward and my tire exploded. The car had to be towed and, given the age of the vehicle and the extent of the body damage, it’s probably totaled.
My brother and I are fine, though, so, yeah, here’s hoping that’s the worst of what happens this semester.