Summer, a faraway dream

School and I aren't friends.

Some people are made to survive seven hours in classrooms occupied by idiots and headed by self-righteous assholes.

I am not one of those people.

This is an exaggeration, of course. I don't hate everyone (which is probably hard to believe for those who know me.) There are a select few who I genuinely enjoy seeing (sometimes), and there are even people who I kind of like but don't really know! Like Best Coast Kid, my favorite curly-haired Best Coast-sweatshirt-wearing sophomore, whose real name is unknown, but friendship I desire. Someday, Best Coast Kid, I will have the courage to come up to you and tell you that I like your Best Coast sweatshirt and ask you to come over for some pizza with my other Best Coast-loving friends and maybe even ask you what your name is so that I can stop referring to you as Best Coast Kid. Someday.

But the point is that it is 44°F outside, and I'm a California girl, so that means it's freezing cold, and I miss the summer, and it was my first day back at school today after winter break, and I am already just so done with the next five months. I even wrote it in my notebook, so you know that it's true.

Courtesy of my Human Physiology notebook

I miss the summer so much already. I am sincerely jealous of you people in the Eastern hemisphere, or Hawaii, or even just you jerk-offs down in southern California- the owner of my heart, the keeper of my soul. I was looking through a couple of snapshots from this past summer, and while it may have been lonely, it was lovely and so beautiful. These are some of my favorites, all of which were captured by me, except the last two, which were taken by my parents.

Here is the caption to the last picture, which I wrote so many months ago:

The wind threatened to blow away our French baguettes and homemade chutney. The straws fell out of our bottles of non-alcoholic mojitos. The food didn't fit into my five dollar thrift store picnic basket. eventually, we gave up and went to Anita's house, where we spent the day playing hide and seek with her little siblings and watching Total Blackout. Her mother gave us watermelon and it tasted like summer.

 I miss this.

Maybe I am being a little bit dramatic and falling back into my crippling case of woeful teenage angst, but oh God I hate school so, so much. I hate to be that TV show character with the unbearable need to rebel and write "SKOOL SUX" in Sharpie on the filthy bathroom walls, but I so am. I can't stand it. I can't handle the combination of pretentious teachers and big-headed privileged kids who reach their peak in high school and will fall a few years after graduation into a downward spiral of cellulite and the realization that the world does not revolve around them. So I hold a bit of a Daniel Desario-esque attitude towards our lovely institution of public education. There's no problem with that. James Franco is hot!

(By the way, did I mention that I have four essays to write as I ramble on in this ridiculous blog post? I am the queen of procrastination.)

It's not that I hate education. I don't! I like to learn. I like history and English and other stuff. After all, wasn't it the wise Blake Chesterfield Anderson who proclaimed that if we don't watch History Channel, we're doomed to repeat History Channel, or something like that? Yeah. I mean, I take extra college classes for fun! I'm not a total slacker. I just wish we had, maybe, a better student body, or even just some extra choices for food in the lunch cart. I'm sick of eating the same brownies since freshman year.

Well, I am starting to actually get some ideas for this essay, so I'm going to leave before James Franco can distract me some more. I will leave you with this beautiful poem that has been stuck in my head since this afternoon, as well as this wonderful video of Otto Frank talking about his daughter Anne Frank's diary.

6:59 am by Shane Koyczan

I've been told

that people in the army 

do more by 7:00 am

than I do

in an entire day

but if I wake 

at 6:59 am

and turn to you

to trace the outline of your lips

with mine

I will have done enough

and killed no one

in the process.