Electric Lib

Watch This

I must give credit to Carol Vassar for finding this cool clip and sending it to people (including my dad, who showed it to me). Anyways, if you haven't seen this yet, go watch it.

Under Da Sea

Well, work was interrupted again this week due to intense, super crazy rain and thunderstorms. Although I would hate for this weather to last much longer than the week it's expected to, it is kind of fun at the moment. The stiffling humidity that builds up in the morning takes me back to the days I spent in Costa Rica with Alice and Molly, moving cinder blocks and bamboo, avoiding dance lessons, pretending to take notes and telling each other made up Indian stories as we walked along the beaches in the pitch black. We were "studying" Ridley Sea Turtles, in the midst of various other activities, which included community service, horseback riding (I triieedd to get out of it, but instead spent two hours pretending to be relaxed so the horse wouldn't sense my fear and then trample me), latin dance lessons, hiking, and the zipline (amazing). On many nights, we travelled out to the beach, with no lights (to avoid scaring the turtles) and looked for turtles. Although my memory holds only a two second clip of the turtle, because most of the space was taken up with memories of me, Molly and Al holding hands as we felt our way along the beach, pretending we were blind (because essentially we were), and telling stories and fearing the crocodiles that lived in the water we were wading through. The only real image I have from that memory is the phosphoresence sparkling at the edge of the water.

Although other times, humidity conjurs images from my trip to St. Lucia with Hannah and Alison, where we spent many days eating croissants on the beach, swinging off of pirate ships, climbing in volcanoes and smiling at the cute boys (ok, yes, that was just me).

Anyhoo, eventually the humidity bursts into the rain and thunder and lighting (which will always remind me of sitting in our short lived cabin in Albany, watching a bolt of lighting strike only about a hundred yards away). Then we pack up the painting camp and run home to enjoy the rest of our day. Mine will be spent reading great novels and writing essays, which will be followed by the cooking of a gourmet meal for my dear father, and finally I will clean the house. Either that or I will go to Alice's and watch Sex and the City....

Perhaps we should be concerned that Vermont is reminding me of semi tropical places?

Okay, Okay, I'm Posting

After my long absence from this dear old blog, I ought to give you something of substance, so check out this talk, which my dad pointed me to. It was worth interrupting one of the four friends episodes I was in the middle of.

My summer thus far has been full of early mornings, long, sweaty, paint filled days, and late nights doing absolutely nothing with the usual crew. I've been working full time for my evil, slave-driving best friend on his painting crew, which is in turn controlled by the significantly more evil, more slave-driving "Collegiate Entreprenuers." This devil company essentially lures money-hungry college students to sign their lives away, all for their life mission of providing "quality" paint jobs all throughout the upper East Coast. Mmm... yeah.. right. I could, and at some point will, list all the various sins of Collegiate dumbheads, but I'll refrain for now, as I have very urgent orders to go to Alice's and watch Sex and the City.

Anyways, the abbreviated version goes something like this: Tyler cooks up this idea to join CE, I advise him vehemently to do otherwise, as I am sure the company will eat up all his free time, work him to the ground, and make him wonder why he cares about painting at all. He doesn't listen and I am right. However, like a good, unemployed friend, I agree to work for him, because I need money and, despite the innumerable reasons for me to wish bad luck upon my old pal, I don't really want him to come crying to me when all his employees quit on him (yes, it happened, and yes they were replaced). So zoom ahead to this summer, we've been working hard and we're about seventh out of fifty crews for work produced. I will end the summer with a lot more money, an appreciation for hard, manual labor and about fifty types of cancer from all the sun and paint dust.

Ultimately, this painting nonsense is just preparing me for the super fun days I have ahead as a Resident Advisor (RA) at school. I'm sure there will be times, when I'm up at 1 o clock on a Thursday night, the day before a test, telling some hyped up lacrosse players that they need to pour out their beer, that I'll be wishing I was up on a ladder in boiling sun breathing in paint chips. (If my sentences are rather long winded and don't make sense, blame the paint fumes).

So there you have it, my life since school ended. Oh, and I've been having fun too, if that didn't come across amidst the kind of unforgiving descriptions.