Daze of Days

So, summer has officially begun!

(for me).

It began last Thursday, but today is the first real day of summer, because it is the first Day-When-I-Usually-Have-Class-But-Not-Anymore day.

A good day.

Yesterday was also good. I spent the day at the beach. I was going to post photographs of my adventures, but the photographs will be returned next Tuesday, so I decided not to. I went with Crystal, a girl I met at Café Julia, and her best friend, Casey. We climbed a dune. Then we ran down. Then I found some rocks, which are really nice. Then I climbed up.

"Where are you going to put those rocks?"
"In my garden."

Then I was laughed at. Then I climbed a tree and lounged in it, and smoked my pipe and dreamed of exactly what was happening. It was a lovely dream. A couple boats went by. A couple clouds went by. A couple breezes went by. Then I climbed down and we drove around and listened to music.

Many music.

Mika, Reel Big Fish, Ben Folds, Dresden Dolls, Streetlight Manifesto, Queen, and all those other bands I would list to make myself feel cool.

Next week maybe I'll go to Chicago. Crystal and Casey and I were going to drive there and back yesterday evening, but we decided not to. "We decided not to" as in, "someone is afraid of what they're boyfriend thinks". Maybe later.

Today, what did I do?

I played piano. Then I went to the café and wrote in my journals, and wrote jokes, and wrote things. Then I made a CD. Then I talked to my mother, and then had dinner.

And then, and then, and then.

(As you can see, I am very excited).

It started to rain, and will for the next two days. Which means nothing. My coffee was exceptional today. As were my pens; sometimes they do not write so well, but not today, no, they were just as excited as I was to be doing what they love to do. My hands were also fantastic today.

Sometimes they shake.

Tomorrow I am going to Men's Breakfast at six, and then Ma's Coffee Pot at nine thirty. I like Ma's Coffee Pot, because it's a cheap knockoff of Waffle House (not as good, but just the same). I will then sit in the porch during the rain and write and draw. You know.

I looked through my journal and found that I never finished my rating of the three doughnuts I had in Detroit. For some reason, that kind of brings me down. I'm a quitter, even when it comes to things I love...

Today, I suppose, is one of those thinking days.

I have yet to accomplish anything I am proud of, excluding Joanna's birthday present, which just so happened to be a major success, and the highlight of the month of April, no matter when her birthday was.

I still feel as if my life is at a stand still. A teenage stand still-which is a sluggish lifestyle that becomes "un-stood-stuck" the first day of summer. That's what I'm waiting for, more reading, more writing, more filming, more people, more postcards, more genuine smiles, more late nights, more early mornings, more loud music, more sand between my toes, less worries, less cares, less sighs, less wasted times, less unfortunate weather.

This is all, of course, taking place in Michigan (more or less, pun). Except for a week in Texas which I may, or may not, be in Dallas for a wedding and two birthdays.

And I am very excited! Very excited to achieve something that I will be proud of. I have no idea what it will be, but I am anxious to try and find out.

I am energetic, I am optimistic, I am hopeful, and I will end with a poem of my own that I do not hate.

I wrote it on March twenty-eighth.

I'm not much of a poet,
but I will tell you what happened.
It is customary for me to listen to the news as I drive.
Sailing down the streets late one evening, the stars continually catch my eye.
I am reminded of you immediately and recall exaggerated memories that often get told, often just to myself.
I begin to sing loudly, from the heart, like a faithful Gospel singer, all the love songs I know.
The songs bounce off the stars and remain to this very moment amongst them, ricocheting off their light.
I hope they caught your ear, wherever you are, because I am certain we see the same stars.
I park at home and cease my song. The newscasters try to behave as if they did not hear.
Even they know, however, that you are loved.