Tuesday, June 30, 2009


I'm home.

Things that happened:
rain, sun, heat, cold, grilled cheese, sailing, survival craft, dance 'till you drop, glow sticks, grilled cheese, shortage of shorts, excess of socks, zombie game, deathball, s'mores, learned about the many uses of sassafrases trees, etc.

Things that have happened since I got home:
Gave the woman who delivered my mail a hydrangea flower (blue), started a job as a dog walker, watered my plants, called my grandpa, hung out with friends, ate cookies, etc.

Things that will happen now that I am home:
My best friends will be leaving me to go internationally.

A blessing about having some of your closest friends living near you is that you always have someone to hang out with. Except when they all decide to leave the country for the next month(+)! If that happens, you are all alone. Sigh.

My friend E. is going out of the country for (correct me if I'm wrong!) seven weeks. Not a cool situation. I am, however, going to creating the best care package known man. And I will send it to her. And it will be EPIC.

Life is going to be lonely without her here, and I am probably going to take a turn for the weirder. When she is around, our peculiarities (such as thinking that everything is going to taste as it smells, and thinking that nobody dies in Canada) seem pretty regular. Without her, I'm going to be some type of freak.

More detail on almost everything I have a list for will appear soon, in a different post. I wanted to give each of these a post, but E. wanted me to give her a blog post before she left.

So here it is. Sorry if it's lame. and sorry if it barely talks about you at all. It's close to one in the morning and I want sleep.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

two weeks.

of away.
of not blogging.
of thinking.
of sailing.
of cabins.
of pottery.
of friends.
of grilled-cheese.
of strangers.
of sleepless nights.
of sunsets.
of stars.
of campfires.
of camping.

two weeks without semi-daily updates on my life. I'm sure you will be able to handle it.

with love,

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Wednesday Wisdom: Graduation edition!

At commencement you wear your square-shaped mortarboards. My hope is that from time to time you will let your minds be bold, and wear sombreros.
Paul Freund

The roots of education are bitter, but the fruit is sweet.


You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself in any direction you choose.
You're on your own.
And you know what you know.
You are the guy who'll decide where to go.
Dr. Seuss

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

sometimes, I need a break.

And that is where camp comes in. Sun, sailing, and sleeping in a room with people you don't know.

Relaxing, isn't it? I'm excited. I can't wait. I'm in the process of packing.

I can't seem to focus on anything at the moment. I've already started writing a list of things I'm going to need to buy for the coming school year. (This year hasn't even officially finished yet.) I've gotten halfway through my camp packing, and I'm worrying about what is going to happen three months from now.

Ho hum.

On the note of having school let out, my brother is graduating. Strange. Sad. Not that emotional, considering he is going to college in the city. I live close to a train station. He will live close to a train station. We really won't be too far apart.

A conversation that I had about my brother going to college:

Pi: So, he's not going to be that far away. I mean, if I wanted to, I could jump on a train with a plate of pancakes, get off ten stops later, and give him the plate of pancakes. They'd still be hot.
E: You know, you could just get onto a train, put the pancakes on a seat, and have him get the pancakes at his stop.
P: ... I guess.
E: Yeah, it would work out really well! He could put the empty plate back on the seat, and then you could get it when the train came back around. You could even put more pancakes on the plate!

Conversations between friends are strange. Friends are strange. People are strange. I hope they never change.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Wednesday Wisdom

"Take rest; a field that has rested gives a bountiful crop. "