Rachel gets sleepy on me, circa 2007

From elementary through high school, summers were for goofing off with the friends whose parents did not travel much either. During college, summers were for gathering with those whom higher learning had scattered across the nation. Post college, when thinking in terms of semesters has worn off and my circle has undergone a global diaspora, the summer months no longer constitute a break from the drudgery but merely days that are hotter.

It is these hot days that make me miss you the most.

Especially when you say things like this.

Rachael. August 4, 2010. Brooklyn, NY.

On the impending visit of a friend: “I’m so excited I could just poop.”

On escaping to her aunts’ in New Jersey when New York gets overwhelming: “Their house smells like flowers and hugs.”

On PMS: “At first I wanted to knife someone, but then I just got sleepy.”

Avery Monsen and his shirt.

I have a vendetta against New York, to where the majority of my friends absconded without my consent. But I’d also like to make Rachael as excited as she says she gets by visiting. So, I have reached a happy medium. As my friend Avery’s t-shirt design says, I feel relatively neutral (meh) about New York.

(On Ana: she moved back from New York, which pleased me immensely. But then on Saturday she left for Spain for an indefinite amount of time, which is as wildly inappropriate as my incongruous mentions of her in each blog.)