Tag Archive | Summer

Summer Lovin’

Earbuds firmly stuck in her ears, my mom dances around the lawn, backlit against the sinking sun. Her weights are in her hands, swinging dangerously near to her head everytime she raises her arms. She’s supposedly working out, and as she launches into the chorus of Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl, I can practically see her happiness gauge filling up. Cooper, the always hungry 10-year-old pup, pads around behind her, hoping he’ll get some kind of reward for his loyalty, not realizing that she has no idea he’s even there.

She’s oblivious to anything but her music, he’s oblivious to anything but his stomach. Together they make the perfect pair, spinning around until their shadows blur in the oncoming nighttime. Smiling, I shut my window on the enchanted scene, closing yet another perfect summer day.

Live long and prosper \V/
Yours sincerely,
The Mostly Confused Teenager.

 

Advertisements

The Post About Toes

My toes lie dormant for most of the year, nestled in warm fuzzy socks and hidden from the cold by thick furry boots. Much like groundhogs, they hibernate until they feel the soft breeze of spring tickle them during a night when they were violently kicked out from under the covers. And that, that is when they wake up and start demanding what they feel is rightfully theirs: freedom.

From all of you out there freaking out because I’m implying that my toes have an independent thought pattern, calm your over-enthusiastic horses. I’m not saying that my toes suddenly start moving all by themselves and ask the brain if they can break up with my body just to pitter-patter away on their own adventures. I like to think that my toes love me far to much to ever act on the great threat of 2011 (don’t ask.), so don’t y’all go chopping off your toes in fear that they’ll decide to discover China without you. Seriously, don’t, you’ll look like a wounded ostrich when you walk around.

I, being the generous and fair goddess that y’all claim me to be, give them their freedom earlier than most. Roughly translated into human lingo, this means that by March I can be seen prancing around the streets of Paris in my favorite pair of flip flops, gathering stares of disdain from most, awe from some and admiration from the rare few. I mean I have nothing against normal shoes, I wear sneakers and flats like everyone else, but there’s nothing quite like that first day when you walk outside, wiggle your toes and feel the raw air on your feet.

Having feet free of the constraints of suffocating socks and shoes is a part of summer that I love and that I would have a hard time living without, which is part of the reason that I could never thrive in Siberia. That and I don’t speak Russian. Now I know that some people simply can’t take off their shoes and walk across a lawn or a beach barefoot. Ladies, gentlemen and aliens, you are missing out. There are few feelings more enjoyable than having sand filter through your toes or letting your feet sink into a shaggy carpet of juicy green grass.

So (I feel as if I’m in a commercial, advertizing some natural health enhancer thing), take off your shoes, let your toes breathe, and walk through the grass. Well, except if you live in the city, in which case don’t, because the grass is covered in a thick layer of dog piss. Side effects of walking barefoot through an urban park may include fungi, disgust and consequential barfing. You are forwarned. Peace out.

Live long and prosper \V/
Sincerely,
The Mostly Confused Teenager.

PS: Am I the only one who’s been having some trouble with WordPress lately? My notifications don’t always show up, my reader won’t load… It’s the weirdest thing.

An Open Letter to Summer

Dear Summer,

You’ve been here for twenty days already, and yet you still fail to make your presence known to us. Yes yes, I know that here in Normandy we’re not supposed to get high expectations about your three month visit, but we still have some hopes come the 21st of June. We can give you a couple weeks to settle in, but then you’re supposed to warm our hearts and souls (and, um, skin and hair, but those parts are slightly less romantic) and make us sing with joy at being able to run through the fields and lay in the grass laughing. Instead, you appear to be being bullied by the other seasons, thus depriving us of some much needed alone time with the giant apricot in the sky.

Today when I got up, I put on shorts and a t-shirt and trudged into the bathroom to brush my hair and do other stuff that you don’t need to know about. About 156 seconds later I emerged from the room looking like I had just come from the Arctic Circle and had only seen wolverines for the past fifteen days (you heard me: a wolverine. Not nearly as muscly as Hugh Jackman, more of a Ron Weasley type (because a wolverine is a weasel. Get it? Yeah I find myself smart). Gosh, I can’t remember what I was talking about… Oh right, I was cold). I dashed back into my room and changed into pants, a long sleeved shirt and a sweatshirt.  Summer, it’s the 11th of July. Even for our harsh climate, frostbite inducing weather is not normal.

In this spirit, please show the following advice (by which I mean orders) to Winter, Spring and Autumn:
Winter; you have no right to butt in right now. You know we love you and your snow and holidays, but this isn’t the time. How would you like it if at Christmas Summer didn’t let you make it snow anywhere in the Northern hemisphere by turning your snowflakes into rain? Not good huh? No. So leave June, July and September alone.
Spring; you bring hope and color with you when you come, but now we don’t want to just hope anymore. Don’t push your timeline on other people, it’s not nice.
Autumn; as much as I love you, it most certainly isn’t your turn yet. You have the least right to impose yourself on Summer because it’s your time to shine afterwards anyway. Stop being hyperactive and trying to steal Summer’s months of glory.

Guys, it’s raining, I’m cold and about as tanned as a dying walrus. Will someone please send me on vacation to some exotic island already?

Live long and prosper \V/
Sincerely,
The Mostly Confused Teenager.

PS: Upon re-reading this post, it seems necessary to indicate that the giant apricot in the sky is the sun, since you aren’t all sociopaths who can read my mind. If you are, then you people have really great covers. Although… they do say ‘stranger danger’… I should stop writing now.

It’s Still Summer

Dear Autumn, back the hell off. I’ve known people like you who might be nice in some aspects of their personality but who are just too pushy. I will remind you that summer is until the 21st of September, so until then I will agree with none of this cold windy rainy nonsense that you’re imposing on the good people of EVERYWHERE.

I was walking on the street today and a leaf fell on my nose. How about no? First of all, I don’t like things falling on my nose, it makes me sneeze, and I happen to know that when I sneeze I sound like a dying zebra. Secondly, it’s still summer!!

Now I know there’s a certain rivalry in between summer and you and I also know that you feel slighted because people prefer the former to you, BUT MAYBE IF YOU STOPPED BEING SO DAMNED IN OUR FACES WE WOULD LIKE YOU MORE! Personally I love the sharp wind and the start of the holiday season, but for Cookie’s sake, it’s still a month and a half until Halloween! Please, I’m begging you, let us enjoy the last moments of our dying summertime hopes as they are swallowed by school and work *shakes head sadly*.

And Heat-Miser, Snow-Miser; if you keep fighting over who controls France, I’m going to go over your heads and go straight to your Mother. You wouldn’t like that would you? [childhood Christmas reference :’)]

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager

Time Is Running Out

Well, not really. I mean time can’t actually run anywhere, nor can it suddenly die from a cookie overdose (sh*t happens), but you get the point. At the start of a new school year, I realized that I’m a junior, which means that at the current moment in time, I have less than two years before I go off to University and leave my home forever. And frankly, the thought of moving on with my life scares me a whole lot.

When I was a little girl, I had no concept of time. Some people, namely my mother, would argue that I still don’t, but it has come to my attention how much my appreciation of the timey-wimey wibbly-wobbly stuff has changed (DOCTOR WHO REFERENCE). At the age of six or seven I had no fixed timetable, no calendar to look at and remind myself that I had an orthodontist appointment the day before which I missed (Oops, oh well. *doesn’t care*). School was school, and it went on until my mom told me it was time for vacation and that I’d only come back in two weeks. I never knew that my last day of 1st grade was the last day, I only knew when I didn’t have to get up too early for my organism to handle the next day. Summer vacation was eternity, each day stretching out with limitless possibility, succeeding the last with equal importance. My mother’s birthday (the 22nd of August) which now seems abominably close to the end was just a random event in the long fabric of vacation. One day, it was time to go back to the world of books and number two pencils, and that transition was made without question. I was not in control.

As I got older, time started speeding up. I knew when school started and when it ended. When vacations came around I always looked forward to the first day of lying around in bed in a cocoon of warmth and coziness with glee, wishing the end would never arrive. During the summer I kept a conscious eye on the date at all times, measuring out the time I had left. Heck, I probably spend more time worrying about what things will be like when something ends than enjoying it while it happens.

Even though they have been filled with quite interminable math and latin classes, the last two years have flown by. On the first day of school you think; “Oh man this year is going to be soooo long, I don’t know how I’ll ever survive the boredom of lessons everyday. Better warn my unicorn to be ready each afternoon so that I can at least ride home in style”. And then, BAM, before you know it, you’re laughing and crying on the last day, swearing eternal friendship and wishing fervently that you were still the awkward new kid (although let’s face it, you still are and will always be, the awkward new kid).

This teenager has one terrifying question on her mind at the moment: if time has sped up so much in the past few years, where will things be at in, say, ten? Will a month then be equal to a day now? Does time keep speeding up until you’re whizzing around at the speed of a deranged giraffe? I’ll admit, I’m scared of what will happen. I guess that it’s important for me to remember that change can be good and that holding onto the past is not always the right path of action to take. Whatever metaphorical deer rush into my headlights, I’ll make sure that they’re all right in the end.

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

Summer Delights

I love summer. It’s my second favorite season, just after winter (why? because in winter it’s harder to sweat profusely when talking to someone you reeeeally like). And there are certain things that make summer freakin’ awesome in this humble teenager’s opinion. So here goes; what makes summer so special to me.

#1 : Vacation

I think most teenagers will agree with me on this one. Summer vacation is the time to kick back, catch up on some sleep, lose sleep because of Star Wars marathons, and relax. No homework or teachers that smell like coffee and cigarettes: awesomeness!  The only down side is that it’s awfully rough not seeing your friends for two months. For some it may be a hard bridge to cross in the relationship area, but because I am single (AND HAPPY) I have no sympathy for those people. Sorry.

#2 : Warmth and Sun

I live in Normandy during the summer months, and to those of you who don’t know the area, let me clear it up for you:

Guess where I live on the map?

Guess where I am on the map?

But in the summertime, we mostly/sometimes/only kind of sort of get sunny days! And warmth means showing some skin (Don’t fret Mom, I’m not a slut. Far from it. Not that I’m a prude. Oh shut up Confused Teen you’re just ridiculing yourself) and getting a tan. Of course I have to put obscene amounts of sun screen on because I burn to a brighter red than Rudolph the Reindeer’s nose. And you know, the tan disappears as soon as autumn arrives, but in the moment that you’re lying outside, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, it’s all worth it.

#3 : Drinks

Once again Mom, don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m not talking about alcohol here. There’s something about summer beverages that make them different from any other old drinks. Iced tea, lemonade and smoothies during the day make my taste buds go YAAAAAY (that’s figurative –> I’d freak out if my taste buds could talk.) and after dinner a sprig of mint from the garden and dollop of honey made from our bees dunked in some boiling water make an intoxicating (in a good way, again Mom, no alcohol) cup of mint tea.

#4 : Ice Cream

Actually forget it, I eat ice cream no matter what time of the year it is.

#5 : Nostril Flaring

Because of the smells. The freshly cut grass being turned into half a tonne hay bales that I have tried rather unsuccessfully to roll around, the scented candles that we put out to ward the bugs away, the salt when we come back from the beach, barbecuing steaks and then roasting marshmallows… Isn’t that an odd word, barbecuing? If you say barbecue in French it means bearded butt. Just thought that I should put that out there.

#6: Baseball Every Single Day

Awesome right? Of course being in France I don’t have the opportunity to watch many of the games, much less go to them, but I love waking up each morning wondering if the Mets won or lost the night before (our record speaks for itself) and eagerly checking the score.  And every afternoon we all grab our gloves and go play catch out on a part of the lawn that is called “the football field” and where no trees will ever be planted, for fear of assaulting them with a baseball bat. Not that that should happen. Intentionally.

#7 : Starry Nights

I have a strange fascination with the stars up above. Being claustrophobic means that I can’t be an astronaut, but I’d sure like to go up there some day. When the night is clear, I wrap myself in a blanket and tiptoe out to the hammock, where I can lie for hours, staring up at the sparkling arm of the Milky Way sweeping across the sky. I find the different constellations, the planets and spy the satellites and shooting stars. I can only describe it as magical.

#8 : Enjoying Yourself by Doing Nothing

Ah, to wake up in the late morning/early afternoon… and knowing that apart from a few necessary chores, you have nothing planned out for the day. Summer is my time for reading sappy romance novels and wishing that I wasn’t alone. It’s my time to watch videos of hot guys made by awesome friends. And it’s also my time to discover new tv series, such as Awkward. Awkward was recommended to me by the only two friends who I told about my blog, and I’ve become addicted. In a week I’ve watched all the episodes. Should I have taken my time? Yes. Do I regret that I’m done? Yes. If I went back, would I do again? Without a doubt.

#9 : My Birthday 🙂

People of the Internet, I shall turn 16 on September 5th. And yes, that’s still summer.

So good citizens of the planet known as Apricot Land, that’s about it. What about you guys? What do you love about summer?

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

PS: my mom does not know that I have a blog.