Keep Truckin'

It feels like summertime outside.
Indeed, it looks like summer.

The trees seemed to magically have sprung an overabundance of leaves, all the azealeas are bending low because there's so many blossoms. My dogs are out smelling flowers (literally). I planted my seeds for a garden, planted more grass to replace that which my weenie-Lab mix and Jack Russell dug up. I hang out my clothes to dry again. I prepped and froze FOUR gallons of strawberries (and made strawberry shortcake) last night- and if there's any sign that summer is here, it's the sign of fresh strawberries. They always come out at the end of spring and early summer.

I feel the hippie in me really start to jive about this time of year, and my attitude improves dramatically because really, who can be pissed off- even when everything is going horribly wrong- when it's so beautiful outside?

So, Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young have had some heavy rotation on my CD player- as well as The Dead, Regina Spektor, and a host of others. "Woodstock" has played on the blu-ray.

Life really can look so much happier when the sun shines on it.

My music lessons have gone extremely well- so much so that my mom is considering springing for me to take lessons during the summer to tide me over til I can take more music in college in the fall. (In my defense, I work a minimum wage job and can't really afford to do anything but pay for necessities.) I've only got two weeks left of school, and it seems surreal that time has passed this quickly. I'm excited to have it over, sad to part ways with my professors, who I've grown to really, really like, especially my biology teacher. He's brilliant and funny- the best kind of teacher to have, really. He doesn't need to teach (he's independently wealthy) but he does it because he loves it and he's so good at it. This fall, I'm still going to be stuck in Alabama, and I fully intend to take every class that he teaches. I'm a science major, it's allowed. I'm also looking at the dismal prospect of more calculus in the fall- and this summer it's chemistry, speech, english, and history. Shit classes, really, but still required. Can't wait to be out of school, even though I really don't know what lays ahead- but then, in times like these, who really does know what's in front of them? It seems that being a 20-something in America these days is a perilous thing.

In other news, I may have to quit my job, even though I just got the position I wanted. It seems that I have a creeper problem. This older man- he's 52- posted an ad under the missed connections tab of craigslist about me (and believe me, if you read it, you'd KNOW it was me). He mentions my work and the location specifically and then goes into rather crude detail about what I look like and says he thinks I'm sexy as hell and wants to get together. I found out about this because a friend happened to see it (his favorite passtime is cruising through craigslist because there's some ridiculous shit on there) and called me. I've never been so embarrassed in my life- it's out there, all the world to see, this terribly ill-mannered physical description of me. And I just wanna say, that's not a good way to get good attention from a woman- EVER. And describing her boobs is a good way to get slapped, punched in the balls and subsequently punched in the kidneys- which is what I fully intend to do if I ever figure out who this elusive figure that buys car magazines is. Or, better yet, I'll find out who it is and whether he has a daughter and I'll post something bogus about her, then later go back and post something directed to him along the lines of "I'm the woman you posted the lewd physical description of. I'm someone's daughter too. No father likes to see his daughter talked about in any such way"...something. I'll get him, my pretty.

But, I'm happy. :) See? Still smiling.