Back

This is where I live: Reeverts Cottage. I love it. I'm super happy to be back, and can't wait until everything is unpacked and it feels like home again. You should come visit, we have 3 living rooms of couches for you to stay on. It's easy to find and there are 7 great girls to hang out with, if you can catch them amidst their thousands of activities. We especially love small children and those who bring food.

Birthday

Well, I'm 21. Took a while (well, no longer than anyone else, I guess), but I'm now officially an adult. Except that I'm still a dependant of my parents, using their house, their car, their money, their insurance, and I still go to the pediatrician. But other than that, I count as an adult.
Ryan and Julie took me out to the Nitty Gritty (the "official birthday place"), where I got a good sandwich and free beer. I don't really like beer, but it was a good way to try some that weren't so gag-inducing. Mom and Dad tried to use the WI law that underage kids can drink at bars with thier parents, so we went out last weekend, but we weren't actually at a bar, and the corporate rule at Chili's of no underage drinkers regardless of parents prevented me from officially ordering a drink. But I drank the one that Mama ordered for me, which was good enough. No, I don't have any great 21st b-day drunked stories, and I think that's good. I didn't wake up with a hangover, I didn't get totally sloshed on Long Island Ice Teas, and I wasn't throwing up the whole night. It was actually rather calm, except for the whooping I got from Ryan at Scrabble. Maybe when I get back to school my girlies and I can get ourselves whipped up into a real post-drinking-age stupor. Or maybe we'll just watch Gilmore Girls and eat pudding.
or ?

Summer Vacation

I'm finally back home in Verona. My world/national traveling days are suspended for a bit. I tried to plan in another cross-country road trip, but sadly it was vetoed by the parents. I guess I'll just have to relax or stay in the same town for more than 2 days or something. Darn.
So I left NY, spent 2 days traveling, 3 days in Holland, 2 days in Cadillac, then 4 days home (2 with Mike and 2 without), 2 days in Eau Claire and the surrounding area visiting brothers, and now I'm just home until I leave for school on the 19th or 20th. That seems like a long time with nothing to do. I get real antsy at home, I always try to find some excuse to get out, and I'm just about out of ideas. I've been "running errands" like mad for 2 days, and I've done just about everything I can do. I got my hair cut, bought school shoes, went to the bank, got a new phone, donated stuff to Goodwill, and unsuccessfully hunted for a denim jacket. I'm just going to have to resign myself to crocheting a lot for a couple days. I guess I could like pack for school or something, but that seems like work. Or I could find some people in town to hang out with, but that would involve actually using my new phone (which I plan to never do unless Mom panics and calls me so much I'm forced to answer). I do have a cool camera in my phone, but I don't really know what to do with the pictures so it's a little useless at the moment. I have a rockin' cool picture of Ryan sitting on the couch, but it's just stuck there in my phone until I find a way to get it out.
So, the gist of this entry is that my life isn't all that exciting because I've run out of places to run to. I've seen just about everyone there is to see around here (Rich, are you still working a lot?), and now I'm bored. One week of vacation down, only one left to loaf through.

Band Camp

In my high school band, when we were struggling to keep time or couldn't keep up with the tempo or were just sucking, my band director would pull out the metronome-from-the-pit, called "Dr. Beat." Not only was Dr. Beat loud and beat at an obnoxious pitch, but my director would hook it up to these huge speakers he would set up at various points throughout the band. It subdivided, it put accents in different parts of the measure, and (worst of all) it talked. I will forever be haunted in my dreams by the creepy female computer voice of Dr. Beat screaming out "one-e-&-a, two-e-&-a..." Darn Hindemith.
This week, I'm chilling with my friends around campus here at Hope in good old MI. On campus during the summer there are all these camps and conferences. This week, there is cheerleading camp and band camp. The cheerleaders are annoying, skinny, uptight, and loud. Way too easy to make fun of (sorry Julie). The saddest part about them is that in walking through their practices I learn the cheers better than most of the girls. Oh well, they are working hard out there in the 90 degree weather. Band camp is a little wierder. Mostly, only the percussionists are visible. Maybe it's just percussion camp or something. Anways, they have set up shop in the parking lot across from where I'm staying, and they practice the same 2 minutes of music pretty much all day. It kinda grates on the ears. The worst part, though, they've got a Dr Beat pumping through some speakers, echoing around this end of campus like a staccato banshee wail. Ah, the horrible memories. My whole soul ticks in time with that terrible ringing beat. Dr. Beat, you have ruined my internal clock forever.