A month ago, I moved to a new on-campus complex called Parkside. It is a fun studio apartment that is literally split into two halves, one on each side of the hall. While the kitchen is huge and the location is perfect, I have not even started to really unpack. This is because I thought that I was moving again at the start of August to another new apartment. However, this second move has been postponed a few weeks, and now I am really feeling the nomadic life.
This summer, I have been enjoying the freedom that a car of my very own provides. Before, I never would take the bus by myself past sunset. That just seemed to be asking for trouble, however short the ride would have been. When the sun would start to set, I would, as if I lived in a world where vampires and other things that go bump in the night really existed, ride my bike home as fast as my legs could pedal. Now, if I need to run a small errand, I can go to the grocery store, or wherever. Amazing! I do still love to ride my bike, and I have found that going to the library or buying flowers isn't as satisfying when I drive there. There is something so pleasantly antiquated about that combination, that I don't think that I will ever become a content driver. Plus, I still hate changing lanes.
To continue with the old fashioned summer theme, I went to the Orange County Fair, enjoying the small but terrifyingly rickety roller coasters and the simplicity of a photo booth. Mama received an honorable mention in the professional photography contest, so we were all very proud! My family and I went to the circus, where two women where simultaneously shot out of side-by-side canons and tigers jumped through hula hoops of fire.
Unfortunately, though, it was tainted with modernity for which I was most definitely not prepared. The circus was not in a tent, but a huge indoor concert arena, and the vendors outside used obnoxiously loud microphones and speakers trying to sell their programs, popcorn and cotton candy. I can accept that being yelled at by the calling salesmen is part of the experience, but at least before the technology invasion, there was a technique and a near musicality to the way they threw their voices. Maybe not. I wasn't there in that time period, so I can't say for sure if that's how it was, but my imagined version of a three-ring circus in a tent with fire-breathers and clowns in striped pants seems much more appealing. It is just so less intimate with laser shows and overwhelming crowds and overly rehearsed lines. I guess my imagined circus, my imagined anything, really, will always be my ideal, so how can I fairly compare the two?
Auntie Colleen posted something that asked which fifteen books will always stick with her. (I know I cheated and put 17, but she listed 24!) Here is my list:
1. The Giver
2. A Separate Peace
3. Dove Isabeau
4. Daughter of the Forest
5. Flowers for Algernon
6. The Things They Carried
7. Tuck Everlasting
8. Bridge to Terabithia
9. Fahrenheit 451
10. The Harry Potter Series
11. In My Hands/The Hiding Place
12. Pygmalion
13. Pride and Prejudice
14. The Picture of Dorian Gray
15. Ella Enchanted
16. Beloved
17. Romeo and Juliet
