It’s summer break. Actually, the last summer break before my senior year of NYU. So, really, the last summer break of my entire existence. I also just turned 21 in April. According to summer blockbuster movies and LFO songs, these three sweaty months should be the sluttiest and jager-bombiest of all my youthful years. Yet here I am in Arizona, slowly melting in isolation like the Wicked Witch of the West.
In the summertime girls got it going on,
Shake and wiggle to a hip hop song
Summertime girls are the kind I like,
I'll steal your honey like I stole your bike (whaaat?)
-- LFO, “Summer Girls”
|Me looking super cute this summer!|
Before I diss Arizona, let me just lay down my love for my home state. Politics aside, I really do find the desert beautiful. There is no sunset comparable to our blood-orange sun surrounded by cotton candy colored clouds gradually lowering behind Camelback Mountain. And the scent of monsoon summer rains—let’s just say that if I was a Beiber-status celeb, that would be T-Starr’s branded fragrance.
But that’s just scenery. The substance of living here? Actually living here and not just visiting for a week and then bouncing with silly nostalgic sentiments in my head like “Ooh Arizona really is so gorgeous! I don’t know why I complained about living here my entire young-adult life!” Because I sure as hell understand my adolescent angst now.
Once upon a time, I had a vehicle that made transporting myself around this oven of a state easy, comfortable, efficient. However, that lovely car has been sold, leaving me to my gams for guidance. This isn’t New York by any means. The public transportation system—while not utterly terrible—is not convenient. If desperation for human interaction compels me to use the bus, I still have to walk several miles in the treacherous heat (and do not give me that, “well it’s a drrryy heat” BS) to the stop.
So I’ve had an excess of downtime--when I can’t mooch a ride from my handful of friends that made the bad decision to remain in state for the summer. Despite this being the largest chunk of absolute freedom I’ve had in three years, my productivity is at an all time low. I’m in an existentialist panic mode, unsure of what to do with this massive amount of unfettered time I have on my hands. This whole essay thing is really just me officially relinquishing myself to the freedom of this summer. I’m stuck here, so I gotta embrace it. I need to put an end to the bitterness that is bleeding through each sentence. It’s up to me to make something out of this summer, so hey, I made a blog. It may not be an original idea, but it’s better than sitting on the couch watching reruns of Snooki & JWoww (sp?). I’m ready and willing to receive reader feedback for ways to fill the myriad days before me. So please, comment, challenge me, slay the boredom of a summer in Arizona. I’ll be forever grateful.