Well, I’ve been home for almost a week now, and it’s weird. I’ve been dividing my time inefficiently (as usual) between

1. unpacking
2. blowing my nose, due to sickness c/o ex-roommate and boyfriend
3. running (yes, even in the heat…it’s bathing suit season, eeps)
4. being freaked out about tfa work
5. reading
6. cooking, cleaning, calling, and organizing life in 3704 Kingsgrove Circle
7. being a scullery maid
8. catching up on thank-you’s
9. getting sunburnt (duh)

That pretty much describes my week so far, lots of advil cold and sinus, lots of trips to various car repair places, and lots of early mornings (arrrgh). Other than that, it’s been a struggle to obey my mantra, avoid the inevitable afternoon thunderstorms, develop pictures, and not drive myself crazy in the house with my parents.

I beat Leroy and Cathy home ’cause my glassblowing lesson got cancelled (sadness), drove across the Bay Bridge in a lavender twilight paying my $10 one way toll. The view from the elevated bridge on Fisherman’s Island never ceases to impress me; there’s just something about those 17 miles of highway on ocean that no matter what meteorological phenomenon might be present, it just looks cool. That particular night it was a hazy sunset with deep blue-grey water at high tide, chopping against the pillars. My overloaded mini seemed do feel that it was close to rest, because she kicked it into high gear and got me home in decent time. It’s too bad that “cheap” gas is $1.90, or I would *really* love that car.

Monday night, in a flurry of activity, I went out on the town with Mark. It felt good to catch up after almost a year, and I’m sure I served to stave off his boredom. What can I say, I’m good for a purpose. A girly martini at Empire made me nice and relaxed after the long drive home, and it felt good to talk about life with a non-Haverfordian for a change (no offense intended, by any means, to all of my nice Haverfordians). Mark’s graduation from Duke filled the entire football stadium; they read every single person’s name at my graduation. Mark shook hands with Madeline Albright; Dave ran into Paul Krugman on the nature trail at 7:30 Sunday morning before the ceremony. I sometimes forget that not everyone has the same sort of collegiate experiences as I have.

Yet in more ways than one, Mark and I shared some views on the closing of our college days. I alwasy forget that they call it Commencement, never Graduation. Cape Henry called it Commencement, and we agreed that it did feel like one. (Nearly) everyone had a place to go after the ceremony, an exciting new social and academic scene to enter into, and a definite course in life. This time, although I have definite plans and a structured short-term future, I had to agree that it felt more like an ending than a beginning. There are people who I won’t see for a long time, most of them I’ll never see again, and I worry this time about my desire/discipline to keep in touch with my peripheral acquaintances.

Never had that problem in high school, ’cause I didn’t have ANY casual friends. My friends were emotionally bonded to me with tears and memories, cat hairs, and sandy beaches, not to mention siblings and family. Many of the people I know at Haverford aren’t bonded to me by much at all, other than a few laughs or some common interests, yet I still care about them. I’ll miss the Spanish majors, and the department with its craziness; running into EB on campus and being able to catch up, when we get too busy with our own lives and forget to talk; even saying hi to my customs group every once in a while (dysfunctional as we were); tagging along with klu’s ecclectic bunch of SciLi addicts, and seeing Dave’s crazy friends. I’ll even miss a few CompLitters, and a soccer girl or two.

That said, in my case there is a commencement, a beginning on the horizon, and it’s all too close. I have hours of reading to do, scary public schools to visit =), and an intense summer training period that I have to prepare for mentally, financially, and fashionably. That seems to be weighing most heavily on my mind at the moment, not the time apart from the boy, not my meager savings, not my health, not my friends. I miss my friends, I should call them.

I don’t really know what else there is to say, other than it’s getting hot, and likely to get hotter soon. I wish I had more time.


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