Boredom.

It's amazing that, even in summer, the time of year most heavily anticipated, I can be bored.

I mean, really, what is my problem? I mean, sure I'm a dyslexic control freak with an alphabetized bookshelf, a closet full of clothing sorted by color, and vacuum lines under my bed, but what is it that enables me to find boredom on a beautiful summer day?

Is it my undeniable need to have a to do list at all times coupled with a sloth like demeanor that prevents me from actually accomplishing anything? Does my lack of wild and crazy mates perhaps hold me back from summertime bliss? Perhaps my failure to initiate successful relationships is the true cause of lethargic woe.

Because if I had a thick, tight circle of girlfriends as I used to, I bet I wouldn't be blogging right now.

What's really amazing is how my friendships changed when I started high school. The upperclassmen I hung around with all said that it was normal, that relationships change freshman year, that things get better, you find your niche.

Well, here I am, less than a month away from the first day of my long-dreaded junior year and I am completely niche-less. I have friends, I suppose. Just none that are my age and female, the winning combo that seems so essential.

(By the way, I am fully aware how whiney these musings are.)

It's really not like I haven't initiated. Maybe not with the right people, maybe not at the right time. But I have. And I'm somehow coming to the conclusion that when God wants it to happen it will. My mom says that certain seasons of life are meant to be lonelier than others and that I should see this as an opportunity to become more intimate with my Lord.

I guess that's the part the kills me. I really haven't. I haven't just embraced my circumstance and sat at the feet of the Father. I will never comprehend his undying faithfulness even as I am so unfaithful, time after time. (This is not what I meant to write about, but I'll go with it) I blow him off, He who loves me more than anyone else ever could, and for least amount of reason. That really blows me away every time I slow down enough to look outside of myself for about ten seconds. The Creator, God of the universe has loved me wholeheartedly, has sacrificed Himself for me just so He could know me. Me! Scum of Earth. The older I get, the less I understand about God. Maybe that's the way it's supposed to work. That as I bloat myself with knowledge I need to realize that about the most significant entity in the enitre cosmos I know next to nothing.

It's something worth considering.

High School Never Ends

Summer is a time to relax, to sunbathe, to bike, to detox, to forget the stress of the last semester...

But how is one to accomplish this highly-anticipated state of relaxation Nirvana when weighted down with reminders like transcripts, AP scores, and summer reading? For example, I am currently cruising the collegeboard website searching for their telephone number so that I can call and get my AP World History score. Yesterday I received my transcript in the mail. Why my high school thinks I want a record of every grade (and SAT, PSAT, and ISTEP score) I've ever earned in every high school and college level class I've taken since I was thirteen sent to me during my blissful summer months, I haven't any idea.

I need to complete my summer reading chart. Go on the Moodle website and post some delightfully witty/ insightful comments about aforementioned summer reading.

I will spend free time in Europe reading for ACP US History.

High school never ends. There is no reprieve; no rest for the wicked, the driven, the grade whores.