A Summery Crescendo- And a Happy Belated Blogiversary!

Ah, hello lovely people!

Well. It is strange to say, but my summer is coming to a spectacular crescendo finish.
This image of my dry-erase monthly calendar, as written in on August 1st (more things have since been added) may give you an idea of how spectacular life appears right now:

I am currently in the ninth, and penultimate week of my computational chemistry research, which transitions to a Dylan-reunion in which I get to spend FIVE GLORIOUS DAYS with a most-beloved boyfriend I won't have seen in 5 months (and whom I will almost certainly not see again for another four...), only to arrive home with just enough time to bask in the light of kinship before going to BUDAPEST for a semester.
AH!

These super-exciting things are interspersed with smaller but also very exciting things-- like the happy "girls' night" which awaits me in but half an hour, a happy anniversary, a chem talk to be delivered on my research for the last nine weeks, a canoe adventure with the chem department, a celebratory dinner at my professor's house, and my last four remaining Summer Social Dance clubs! If we conveniently ignore the miserable packing process which must occur in the next ten days, the next three weeks promise virtually nonstop happiness and excitement. And, given that I then transition into a voyage to Europe...
Life is so great.
I am happy and excited.

In general, I think this summer has been a happy one. I think I have done well in life since turning twenty. Despite the suggestions of my previous post... (it was not a good day or week, and it is acceptable to have those moments of sadness and weakness) I really have done a much better job of feeling confident, worthy of love, and capable of standing alone.

In the past I have struggled tremendously with giving myself credit for anything. While I highly prize modestly and humility, I still think that it is important to give credit where credit is due-- and I have slowly been able to say, "You know what, self- I am proud of you for that. That was difficult, but you pulled through. Nicely done."

Near the end of my "Spring Quest" I mentioned that, in a way, I would be away from Home for a while. I expected year 20 to be a hard one. It's certainly not over yet, but as I reach the almost-half-point, I would say it is less of a hard one than a challenging one with great opportunity for growth. It is true that I have had moments of insecurity and loneliness and sadness. BUT those days could be counted on a hand! (Maybe two hands...) I expected to feel estranged and alone in a kind-of-exciting-but-mostly-scary foreign land.
Instead, what I see is a large number of new friends and acquaintances-- I have effectively expanded the stretch of metaphorical land that I can call "home."
I have helped create a wonderful summer social dance community filled with people I have grown exceedingly fond of, I have deepened old and developed new friendships, I have learned that I can hold a conversation with people I don't know very well and have a wonderful time without crumbling into crippling awkward-nerd-girl-awkwardness. I have gained a smidgen of culinary experience, explored the natural beauty surrounding my Carletonian home, learned that I actually kind of enjoy running (what?), discovered that piano is awesome and beautiful, become fluent in the language of zeolites, and generally partaken in wonderful growth.

There are challenges ahead, however!
I have about a year before I need to make scary decisions about life post-Carleton.
I have three months to take Europe by storm. (Yeah, life is hard...)
I have to learn to be strong and to actually communicate my thoughts to those around me.
I have to push myself to continue creeping outside my comfort zone.

I thought I wouldn't make it past the level of Slightly Slower Slug... but we're making it to Slow Swan this year!

To my very small handful of Readers, happy belated blogiversary!
Yup, this little blog has been in existence for a little over 365 days (372 to be exact).  I don't know that the blog has grown all that much... but I think that I have grown more than I expected. And I would like to thank you, rare and dear Reader, for sharing in that wonderful process with me.

I hope year two brings even more exciting challenges, adventures, and happiness.

Huzzah! Cheers!
:D

Tacos and Kings

There's something delightful about summer.

I love long, warm evenings of golden light and contentment... I love frolicking without thought of jackets or sweaters... I love the feel of floating through perfect warmth.

I think home and summer have become mentally intertwined since venturing off to a land of seasons and cornfields. Christmas felt strangely (wrongly) summer-esque after leaving a home of snowy whiteness in favor of a home of mild-climated "pompous palm trees" (as Brynna terms them).
But summer fits home (real home) perfectly.
Driving down PCH with gorgeous, dramatic, coastline views can only make my lips smile proudly and my heart delight in the beauty of home; catching a glimpse of blue, shimmering, watery vastness never fails to make me happy. Home may not be perfect, but it's home... and it's beautiful.

The last few days have been wonderfully summeresque.
Sunday evening there was a very happy bonfire, complete with storytelling, discussion of life-plans, a brief bit of sand-waltzing (note: sand is a terrible surface for waltzing), nonsense songs, and delicious s'mores. T'was merry and warm and delightful!
After the bonfire a group of us decided to travel to a popular taco truck (yes, that's right) and gorge ourselves on very, very tasty carne asada tacos. The few outdoor tables and chairs that were available were, of course, taken. So we opted to stand and eat off the trunk of my car instead. As I watched my recently-washed-and-therefore-unusually-clean car become littered with pieces of onion and tomato, I could only laugh at the odd picture our feasting forms must have made to a casual observer.
The tacos were delicious and the rendezvous delightful. Ahh, summer! Ahh, home!

Yesterday afternoon was also fun and summery. I met up with el señor Lubbers at the Coffee Cartel- a cozy, beachy-chill (dare I say hipster-y?) café bedecked with unique art pieces, obscure books, a suit of armor (why?), and comfy-shabby couches perfect for lounging and enjoying the company of friends…whilst sipping coffee, I suppose. Actually, the barista who was working there when we got there was extremely amusing, if not altogether present. I quite appreciated his appreciation of the word melatonin (“Say it. ‘Melatonin.’ Isn’t that such a cool word?”), his inability to remember whether both or neither of us wanted whipped cream (“I knew it was both yes or both no. They’re such similar words. They both have three letters. Don’t start with the same letter. Have no letters in common. Makes it so hard to tell them apart. Umm, two, three- it’s the same thing. Less than four letters. ‘Yes.’ ‘No.’ It just makes it so difficult to distinguish between them.”), and his assertion that the day's special contained unicorn blood and was nothing short of magical- yeah, he was a fun guy.

But the activity that took over the Coffee Cartel reunion was not coffee centered.
No, a different activity consumed us.
 Much to my consternation, Lubbers forced me to play chess. I begged, I pleaded- to no avail. Against my protestations, the chess board was promptly brought out, set up... and before I knew it I was engaged in battle.

Now allow me to provide some background.
For reasons I can't quite fathom, I had never actually played chess before. I had distantly watched others play... I had a basic understanding of the pieces... But throw myself into battle? Nay, not I! 

This almost makes no sense. Chess seems a pretty... thoughtful, intense game- just the sort of game I would enjoy. And as I found myself trying to decide on moves and thinking through how to save myself from death, I did indeed find myself enjoying the game immensely. It was just the sort of focused thinking I tend to relish. But then I recall my state at the beginning of the game: I had no idea what I was doing, I felt stupid, I desperately wanted to evade a situation which could only result in embarrassing, bloody massacre... in short, I was terribly, cripplingly afraid of the sense of shame and failure that one risks when trying something new. Afraid to the point that I would plead for a different activity. And then it makes sense.

Okay, so I lost. But it was not a bloody massacre (er, right Lubbers?). I made a few short-sighted errors, but it was okay. It forced me to focus and think and do my best, and I loved it.

Something causes me to suspect there may be a lesson in here somewhere... It will probably take a few more (many more?) classes for it to stick, but at least it's a small step in the right direction. Hopefully I have a few more friends willing to ignore my initial protestations and to be supportive when it counts.

Oh and a note on drawing- I'm pretty sure I achieved the zenith of my artistic career yesterday. I pretty successfully managed to capture the slender, flowing, glorious beauty of a nymph statuette which I have admired since girlhood. Annette is very pleased.

Oh, summer! Warm, carefree summer!