Summer 2012 Wrap-up

Well, I had a couple good weeks of regular posting, and then dropped off again because I was either having a good time or working really hard. As it should be.

This year, I vacationed in Portland, Maine. It was the farthest north I've ever been in the U.S. As usual, I got a little nervous about leaving New York City, something I have to monitor closely so it doesn't turn into a full-blown mental illness, but once I got there I was fine. I didn't really do much, just wandered around, looked at old buildings and graveyards and the indigent, read a couple novels and several volumes of European erotica, took a little boat ride and a little train ride. You know, vacation stuff.

This dude knows.

The BF was staying up in Maine for the summer for an internship and he had an apartment on the Eastern Promenade. The beach was just a five-minute walk down the hill, so I spent a couple of mornings there, picking up seashells and putting them back down again. (The last time I brought home seashells I had to trash the lot because one of the shells was still inhabited when it went in my suitcase. Lessons were learned.) I did get in the water, but got right back out again, because that shit is COLD. Only little kids and muscular guys with military tattoos were in there with me, which should have been a clue that my delicate tropical constitution was unsuited to that locale.

Whales and soldiers only.

And like all New Yorkers, I spent the week thinking how nice it would be to live in Portland, where the air smells of pine trees and the sea, the groceries are cheaper than a Canal Street Guchi purse (that's how they're spelled), and I could get an apartment in a  restored pre-war mansion for less than I pay for my pocket-sized Rachel-den in Brooklyn. I could live on Peak's Island with my goats and sheepdogs and pottery wheels, and the children in their organic cotton t-shirts would spend their nights on the dock, listening to the fog-horns and cursing their mother for leaving New York and stranding them in the ass-end of nowhere.

Floor it! We can be in Times Square by dawn!

I made it back to Brooklyn just in time for classes to begin. I'm going to miss getting off work at 4PM every day. This year I did some new student orientation events. I even got to give a presentation, with PowerPoint and everything. The only way I could have been more official was if I'd worn covered shoes. Thirteen years of public school teachers couldn't make me do it, so what hope do the people who sign my paychecks have? Sandals and slippah forever!

First week of fall classes also means the florist comes with his van and sets up on the main lawn to sell little cacti and Beta fish to nervous freshmen. Deprived of a cat for too long, I got a little over-excited and purchased some plants for myself in order that I might smother them with affection and obsessive worrying over their health. The one on the right is an aralia, a low-light houseplant with pretty round leaves. The one on the left is a banyan tree bonsai, which reminded me too much of home to just let it go back in the van. I really hope I can keep that one alive, because it was heavy and my arms are still sore from carrying it home.

Good luck kitty in the aralia, Buddha in the bonsai.

Right now, I want to be out in the beautiful late summer breeze, but I'm desperately sick with a cough and a socially unacceptable amount of snot. Filthy students, getting me sick with their out-of-state germs and having sex with the curtains open. The office windows are only tinted on the outside, you fools! I can still see you!

Enjoy your Labor Day.