It's not really the fault of the rain, but after planning on getting back to Amherst by this time today and still finding myself on the computer on my sister's bedroom floor, I need something to blame that I cannot physically grab and shake angrily. I guess what I'm saying is, nothing ever goes quite according to plan. And in following that bit wisdom (who knows who said it first), I have the first list in a very long time, entitled, "What I Learned From Spring Break in New Jersey".
1 - There is never enough time for anything.
I already learned this one a long time ago, in many different locations. I don't know why the universe keeps failing me and making me take the class again.
2 - Clothing shopping is unnecessary.
The only way I now acquire new clothes is rooting around in the bags of discarded things my sisters abandon in the basement. If things have gotten too small for them, they tend to fit me like a glove. And if they consider something too tacky, chances are I am the one who convinced them to buy it in the first place, so claiming it just seems right. I have an entire Rubbermaid container full of this week's basement shopping.
3 - The diners in Massachusetts really suck.
There is nothing like coming home for good disco fries. Very few people outside of the Tri-State area do these correctly. Even in Philly I was a little skeptical.
4 - Naps are underrated.
I haven't been napping nearly enough at school, probably because things had been so hectic before CUPSI. Since coming home, I have napped nearly every day, and man has it been wonderful. I really missed wasting away the afternoon after reading for several hours. There is nothing like finishing six chapters of a book and rewarding yourself with a warm and comfy bed for a few hours.
5 - There is no way I can keep this up.
As much as I love my house, it really isn't my house anymore. Yesterday the kitchen linoleum I have known for my entire life was torn up and right now the construction workers are sanding and replacing the floor with oak. This is only one in a long line of minor changes that have amassed over the past two years that have been making me more and more uncomfortable. First they got wall-to-wall carpet in the living room, replacing the moss green area rug that had been there for God knows how long. Couches have come and gone (currently one of them is an uncomfortable leather number that's too sticky to sit on in the summer, being that we still don't have A/C), walls have been repapered or repainted, and all these little cosmetic differences only serve to further divorce me from any feeling of home I've been holding onto.
In light of item number five, I've felt less and less compelled to come home for the summer. I'd really like to try out for the NPS team (especially after how amazing CUPSI was), and even if I don't make it, I'd love to live in Boston for the summer. To be among poets. To support myself. Cassandra and I talked about it tentatively on the phone yesterday while I was having a miniature nervous breakdown about the state of my Jersey life, and I feel so much better knowing that I will be able to escape. I love this state, but honestly, there are only so many changes I can endure before things end up all drastic and terrifying.
Speaking of Boston, I will be on a bus that's Beantown-bound first thing tomorrow (after cashing my elusive paycheck), and I plan to spend the weekend acclimating myself to the city, because we were never really properly introduced.