Rambunctious Rambling.

Summer is not my season.  Just stepping outside turns me into a quivering pile of goo on the scorching sidewalk.  I yearn for the autumn months, for the wool sweaters and falling leaves.  I long for chilly nights and wearing knee-high socks, skirts, and letting my wavy strawberry locks whip lovingly across my face in an autumnal gust.  For now, I will sit in my apartment and sing/dance to almost every song on my ipod.  Of course, it's Shark Week so it's hard to be yearning for much more than a comfy couch and a show about which bait is preferred by the Bull Shark (the shark responsible for the most human deaths).

Most of my pictures from my Sicily trip have been uploaded onto my Flickr account, so feel free to peruse.  I am taking the original film pictures and compiling them into some hand-decorated Moleskine albums.

My 21st birthday is in a month and I must devise a plan for celebration.  I haven't really celebrated my birthday in a few years so I'm thinking this should be a good one.  I want to have a party at my new place but my roommate is against it, so perhaps I can convince a friend to throw me one.

Speaking of birthdays, a mighty happy birthday to Stephen R. Horton.  His fatherly teachings have given me so much over these two decades.  I'll never forget when we had our first game of catch, or when we would shave our stubbly faces side by side at the bathroom sink every morning, while I strained on my tiptoes just to see my entire cherubic face in the mirror.  If it weren't for him, I wouldn't know how to talk to girls or tie my tie every morning, thanks dad.