Summertime goals:
1. Read. The good stuff. The bad stuff. The ugly stuff. All of it. Specific titles include: Picture of Dorian Grey, Vanity Fair, maybe the last Harry Potter, War and Peace, and the Austens again.
2. Get tan. A good tan. At the very least I will need to even out the...well....patchiness caused by all of these outside graduations. (Bright red left shoulder. Bright red neck. Bright red left and right knees. Bright red forearms. And all the rest, so pasty white...)
3. Get back into shape. Might involve going to a physical therapist to figure out some stuff. Don't be scared. They're probably not as scary as...the dentist...
4. Eat better.
5. Kick coffee addiction.
6. Become grammar nazi. I've lost the full comprehension of grammarial nuance that I had in like, 7th grade when we spent an hour a day diagramming sentences. MLA book in hand, I will become powerful once more...muwhohahaha!
7. Do nothing. I love doing nothing sometimes. And I think this is my last shot.
8. Maybe learn some sign language. Just to see.

Yep, that's the main stuff. Yep...

I have spent the last hour or so doing nothing but eating mint chocolate chip ice cream, putzing around my room, and listening to indie rock on iTunes. Whoever figured out that mint and chocolate go hand in hand so well...well, God love 'im. As to the putzing and the music, who knows? I think indie rock is a tricky thing to get into. It's one of those things that some do not take lightly. On the one hand, there's some great music. On the other hand (and, I may be a tad out of my element here, but I think there's some truth to this) there's the fans. No, no. "Fans" is not the word. "Aficianado" or "connesseur" is more like it. With all of the snootiness that those terms imply. (Because, after all, words like this that are imported from romance languages into our own somehow get snootinized more often than not...) You couldn't go to some sort of (hypothetical) indie rock convention as only a casual admirer. It'd be scandalous. "You mean you don't own ANY of The Thundercats' bootleg live albums?!? Man, the '98 Stockholm is mindblowing! 27 minute version of 'The World is my Face!!!!!!'"
AND it seems a weird discipline. Usually it's a point of pride to be well-versed in topics that other people are also interested in. I've heard an indie fan or two gloat over finding their very own band that no one knows about. The smaller the fan base, the cooler you are for being a part of it. Hmm...maybe that's not too weird. I guess the goal is to prove how elite you really are. Hmmm....interesting.

Alrighty, off to bed for now. :)

I graduated today...but that's not important. This blog is about my ambivalent relationship with panty hose.

No, really. What's to be done? They're so good for some things. In the words of Fran Drescher (because I so love to quote women who build careers from their high, nasaly voices): they hold ya in like a sausage. So, if we're going merely on the basis of aesthetics, the hose has it. They can even give a delicate sheen or a more exhibitable tint to those legs that have not, for instance, made it out into the sun since....well, last summer.
BUT! They make it really hard to walk in sandals or strappy shoes sometimes- turning even the most innocent staircase into a mountain of HORROR. And, on hot, humid days....not so comfortable. Hmmm. Panty hose.

I guess we'll get to the graduation part later. But not right now. Still so much left to think about there, I'll need a few days...All in all, though...Pretty much everyone that I love most in the world was there. It was...amazing.

I have rarely felt so complete.