When I was a child, I loved going back to school. And not because I was a geeky, smart kid. It was because I loved, loved starting something new, like opening the first few pages of a Ramona Quimby book. I loved the smell of new pencils and erasers and having clean notebooks and new shoes. I liked starting over and seeing my friends change from their three months off—I loved carrying around the knowledge that I was getting older.
And I hated summer.
I know, I know, most people in the world, like 91.2 percent (my on-the-spot stat), find warm, sunny, humid weather to be ideal. They love their sunshine like a little piece of happy on the beach and long light-filled days with picnics and barbeques and lots and lots of swimming.
My view of summer was much more uncomfortable. Sticky skin and not being able to take a good, deep, clean breath. Having to be outside instead of inside where it was cooler, maybe. Wearing clothes that were infinitely smaller and more embarrassing than the long pants, long sleeves of fall and winter. And sweating for no reason, and at some point, turning my skin a pale, charred pink color.
I knew back-to-school meant that cooler weather and a cardigan sweater were just a few weeks away, and crisp air and all things pumpkin and burgandy and autumnal were just waiting for me to survive a little while longer with no air conditioning and sweat behind my bare knees.
I still hate summer, which is unfortunate, since I live in the land of eternal vacation.
But I also still love starting something new. Here’s to a new blog.
-Lisa
