A large but comfortable sweatshirt that smells attractive, a David Sedaris book I haven't read yet, the smell of lilacs blowing in through the open window, an eventless afternoon, and some chai tea.
I find this to be a decent beginning to the summer of 2009, even though I swear up and down that I'm bored of being home already. I have enough Snow Patrol and Keith Urban downloaded onto my laptop that I'll probably be content for hours without having to change the song.
In this entirely empty, uneventful afternoon lies a large amount of what I look for in the future. Whether it's the lyrics I identify with, or anything said by David Sedaris. One day, I hope to be somewhat like him- except straight and lacking a nicotine addiction. In "Sweet Thing" I hear how I hope my summer will go, and I feel like I'm close to getting what I want, if not a little bit off. (Something about speaking vaguely makes me feel confident that the people I'm talking about will not catch onto what I'm saying, but then again, that's never the case). In the stack of books I got from the library I can see more of what I aspire to be. While I didn't get any books written by what I really want to be- a high school English teacher who somehow has the income to support endless summers of traveling the world- I feel like almost any writer knows what I'm dreaming of.
And again, I'm stuck by that constant desire to be anywhere but someplace familiar. I'm going to Boston next month, a place I've been to many times, but still I would be counting down the days if I knew exactly when I was leaving. I can't wait to follow a red line through a city whose baseball team I loathe just to experience something out of the ordinary. And more importantly, to be able to have something to say about it at the end of the day.