I've been home for over a month now, and I gotta say that this is without a doubt [Napoleon Dynamite voice] the worst summer ever! I was reminded again of why I hated summer so much in high school. Now, my last two summers were really fun. I spent last summer at the University of Tennessee and had the time of my life, and the summer before, I was at Loyola doing math research. (Yeah, I know that for most of you, that sounds about as fun as jumping into a swimming pool full of nails, but I'm a math major, so my idea of fun is slightly different.) But this year, I have absolutely nothing to do. I've been trying to find a summer job to earn a little bit of spending money for grad school, but so far, only one place even offered me an interview, and from the looks of things, I probably didn't get the job. I mean, c'mon, I'm a f#$%ing college graduate! Why won't anyone hire me? At this point, I'm wondering why I should even bother filling out any more applications, because no one's going to hire me for only a month. And even if I got a job, my dad probably wouldn't let me use the family car to get there.
Which means I've had pretty much nothing to do this summer except eat, sleep, read books, watch TV and movies, surf the net, and slowly get fatter - activities that I can only do for so long nonstop before I start to go bonkers. I'd love to go outside and jog or ride my bike, but it's just way too hot to do so. I don't go to the town pool anymore, because it's always too crowded, making it impossible to swim laps, and I never see anyone I know there. I can't really do anything fun because I can't afford anything anymore. I haven't seen any of my friends at all because they don't seem to want to hang out with me anymore, in spite of all of my not-so-subtle hints to them that I'm only home for another couple months and probably won't be home again til Christmas.
But the worst part about being home this summer is that I don't have the freedom that I had when I was at college. Yep, I'm 22 years old, and still have to answer to my parents about everything. I can't sleep in as long as I want to anymore, or else I'll have to put up with their constant bitching about it, even though, as I stated earlier, there's nothing to do in this godforsaken hellhole of a ghost town. I have to share the lone internet connection in the house, which my dad monopolizes most of the day, which is why I'm usually online so late at night these days. But worst of all, I can't go anywhere without having to tell them where I'm going and who I'm with, which is why I don't get out that much, plus the fact that in order to get anywhere, I'd have to either ask them to borrow the car or ask someone to give me a ride. Quite honestly, I'd really love to just round up a friend or two, hit up the nearest bar, find some attractive single ladies to try to dance with, and just get drunk off my ass (in somewhat that order). When I was at school, the only one stopping me from doing that was me (my schoolwork, my lack of money, my intuition that maybe I shouldn't go out tonight, etc.) But at home, I think it would be kinda awkward to ask my parents for permission to go to a bar with someone or come home at 2:30 in the morning in an inebriated state while my parents were already asleep. It really makes me feel like such a lame-ass loser.
Don't get me wrong, I love my mom and dad to death, and I miss them often when I'm away, but right now, I just feel so stifled spending my summer cooped up in my house with nothing to do. So here I sit, counting down the days til I leave for Clemson (47 or 48; I haven't finalized my travel plans yet), when I'll have wireless internet, access to a fitness center, people to hang out with, and most importantly, freedom. In the meantime, my friends, if you're as bored as I am and find yourself in the area of Berks County, Pennsylvania (or find the urge to make the trip from wherever you live), hit me up so we can hang out sometime! Hope all of you out there in Reader Land have a great summer - or at least, one that's better than mine!
B-)
Arriving at Fiumicino from Oslo, I had approximately 13 hours to kill
before my flight back across the Atlantic the next morning. What could have
been an a...