Updates

At Erin's urging (Erin, don't hate me but I'm not sure how to put a link to your blog in here - suffice it to say I'm relatively new at this), I'm updating. I guess this doesn't have to be just a summer thing - it can be a "when I feel like it" thing instead.

It's 11:27 a Sunday night and I'm drinking a welfare Cosmopolitan. I say "welfare" because it isn't garnished with a lime. Oh, well - I'll live. I actually finished all the homework due tomorrow several hours ago and have been - gasp! - doing readings due Tuesday and Wednesday for the last couple of hours. Megan and her roommates are laughing uncontrollably and making loud noises in the other room - I added that for emphasis, I guess. The point of all this is that there's not much point at all - the whole reason I never liked the idea of blogging in the first place is that nothing all that interesting ever really happens to me. I'm usually there when interesting things happen to other people, but those aren't my stories to tell, now, are they?

Can men contract yeast infections? I wonder. That would be even grosser than women getting them. Not to be a yeastist, by any stretch - it happens and it's manageable and blah, blah.

It looks to me like I need to go to bed. I'll do that, and maybe I'll ramble without direction another time soon.

Titties, everyone.

The Summer in Review

Like, oh my god. It's been almost a month since I posted, and I think that confirms the musings included in "Maybe This Was a Bad Idea." It probably was - I didn't have that many adventures this summer. At least not in the way most people would think of adventures.

Right now I'm wearing socks that say "Happy Hannukkah" on them. And after this weekend (which I miraculously have off from work), summer will be no more. That's right - classes start on Monday. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't kind of excited.

In any event, let's recap. What have I accomplished this summer? I watched Sex and the City in its entirety (you know, for the fiftieth time or so). I started smoking (again). I bought at least five new pairs of shoes and two handbags. I did a lot of reading - I specifically recommend Tom Robbins' "Still Life with Woodpecker," Erik Larson's "The Devil in the White City," and Lorrie Moore's "Birds of America." I didn't get around to rereading "Love in the Time of Cholera" or "100 Years of Solitude" (both by Gabriel Garcia Marquez), but they're amazing as well.

Something else I did this summer is wear a lot of skirts. In fact, people at work seem bewildered when I show up wearing pants of any kind. I went to a wedding, had a couple drunken nights during which I made some bad decisions, and spent a lot of time at the Lake of the Ozarks, on the patio off my bedroom, and the front stoop of my building. I listened to a lot of Iron & Wine, made a few mix CDs, spent some quality time with the people I love the most. I got some terrible sunburns and some great tans, lost some weight and gained some too. Somehow I also gained a bunch of throw pillows. We started the summer with four and by now we've got at least ten. I don't know how that happened.

All in all, not a bad time. I'm ready for school to start but I can't deny that I've had some great times. Oh, but next summer? Italy, here I come. That's right. I imagine the possibility of a daily adventure will be much higher there, but there's something to be said for ol' Columbia. It's boring but at the end of the day, it's home, after all.

Ouch

How's this for an adventure - my tongue is riddled with canker sores. Not only is it gross, but it also prevents me from doing my two favorite things - talking and eating - with any degree of comfort. Hates it.

Oh, also, it's HOT. Hates it again.

Devils Among Us

John D. and I hiked out to the Devil's Icebox today, and that was a legitimate adventure. I neglected to bring my camera - well, actually, I wasn't aware it was such a sight to see so I didn't think of it at all. But it was absolutely breathtaking. The trail on the way was lovely, practically crowded over with the greenest trees I'd ever seen and purple flowers literally waving in the wind, if you can believe something that picture perfect.

But the Icebox itself is unbelievable. I sort of wondered on the way there what it was, exactly, and soon found out it's a cave - actually, a system of caves that runs for miles. Part of it is full of water, so the only way to get through it is by canoe, and it's pitch black even in broad daylight because, well, it's a cave. You take a series of incredibly steep wooden stairs to get down to it and as you descend, you can feel the air getting cooler and taking on that musky cave aroma. You climb over rocks (today there was water running over them from the rain we had last night) and come to an opening, which literally looks all the way up to the sky. The trees clear right above it and it's like you've found a portal to some other world. It was amazing. I had no idea something like that was here in Columbia, Missouri of all places, so near the suburbia-gone-wrong of Providence and Nifong, especially. Both sides of that little opening are pitch black, and you can't go into one of them because it's against the law to disturb the bats that live there. The other one would be cool to explore sometime, but we didn't have a flashlight and didn't feel like stumbling over wet rocks into the unknown.

But yeah, it was a really vigorous hike and such a cool treat at the end of it. The closest thing I've had to an adventure in awhile, I guess. Speaking of adventures, I have the honor and privilege of working from noon to nine tomorrow - wahoo. My next adventure is getting to bed...

Bad Luck

I was smoking on my porch a few minutes ago (I know, I know) and there was a black cat sitting in the courtyard. It would not take its eyes off me. I stared back with some alarm, partly because I'm allergic to cats and I hope it doesn't belong to my neighbors or anything and partly because I've always heard that a black cat crossing one's path signals that bad luck is on the way. I'm not usually one to buy into superstitions, but maybe there's something to all this - it was awfully creepy, after all. Actually, as I closed the screen door and came inside, I saw a flash of lightning and heard a thunderbolt crack. Uh-oh?

I guess that's not really an adventure either, but frankly, I'm boring and bored and at a loss for something else to write. Deal with it.

Maybe This Was a Bad Idea

Yeeeeah. So maybe this whole "write about my adventures" thing was a bust - I don't really have any adventures. The biggest adventure I had today was going to work and saying "good morning" to the same woman three times within about half an hour. Ha, she was pissed. But really, I didn't know it was the same woman. She must not be very memorable, and we all know that's her fault.

Oh, this isn't an adventure either, but has anyone seen that Axe commercial with Nick Lachey in it? It really sucks, and I guess you could say I had high hopes for Nick after his split with Jessica. He sucked all along, and she's the only reason he's still famous, but I guess I just felt bad for him or something. Oh well, he'll survive - shitty pop music always pays the bills.

Bills! That's an adventure. This is my first experience paying bills by myself - I'm sure that makes me a priss - and it never occurred to me that being self-sufficient could be so satisfying. Paying my own rent and utilities shouldn't make me this happy - I should probably be home freeloading off my parents. That's obviously the better way to spend summers between college semesters. It's true that I would have more money, and it's true that I wouldn't have to do my own laundry, but there's something to be said for coming home to an empty apartment and being the only one to fill it. Don't get me wrong - I miss that bitch I live with (father of my child) - but this is the first time any place has been just mine, even for awhile. It's pretty sweet.

Some random things I counted today...

Number of times I played with my nose ring: 36
Number of pairs of pants I folded/hung today: 50+, I stopped counting after that and became depressed
Number of times rubbing alcohol was offered to me: 3 (no, just kidding, only once, but it was random)
Number of reasons I'm lame for having started a blog about nothing: 2487

Welcome to Columbia

All right. I'll admit it - after quite a long time spent pooh-poohing blogs and all their counterparts, I have succumbed and started one. But don't be fooled - this is not a real blog. It's a seasonal one. My friends are off having ridiculous adventures - Haidee is in Mexico, Tom is in L.A., Alex is in India, Sarah Lake is in Japan, etc., etc. until I'm so jealous I could burst - and I've lamented being here in Columbia to no end. It's boring in comparison - or is it? Ha, no, it totally is. It can't even hold a candle to the quiet suburb of Park Ridge, from which we all know I shamefully hail.

So anyway, I've digressed a few times now, true to form. But the purpose of this blog is to record the experiences I have in this sleepy little place, because even though I'm not in a particularly exotic place (unless you consider 3 Wal-Marts within 10 miles of each other exotic, which some might), I'm having a pretty damn good time.

Keep in mind, this might all go awry by tomorrow morning when I think about what to write in here and draw a complete blank. Oh, well - here I go trying, anyway.