Four Thoughts

I.
Sometimes, I get so sick of the silence in New York that I turn on static. I like the feeling of bobbing my head and tapping my foot to an imaginary beat as fellow subway colleagues imagine the Dylan and Panic! and Young Joc in my Ipod I do not own.

II.
Sometimes, I think women never shave. Somewhere in between Hillary Clinton and Alanis Morrisette, women said, "F this. I'm growing it out." I had once thought that if I saw too much hair on a woman's upper lip or armpit or legs, I had just caught them on a bad day. But it's summer. And it's happening too damn much. So I give up. Here's to you, Independent Woman. Fight our football, cheap beer, and Doritos tendencies with your furballs. We're coughing our way into oblivion.

III.
Sometimes, when the alcohol has lost its effects and Chumbawumba is no longer thought-provoking at three in the morning, the same cliche questions come out. These days? "Are you excited to go back to school?" No. Only in college classmates and Screech asks questions like this. It has been a sad, sad year as summer vacations were no longer as fun as they used to be with the Ricky Lakes and imaginary games and solo karoake times. Am I the only person sick of the summer jobs and internships that suffocate us like rats in Grand Central? Am I the only person sick of the idea of sitting in a 16th straight year of class? Am I the only person who also wouldn't mind punching the person who tells me they're excited to learn? Am I the only person who is beginning to feel the air of adulthood closing in our once supple adolesence as there are nothing to look forward to anymore except empty, unsatisfying, two-week vacations that never amount to what we expected?

IV.
I think my college minister reads my blog. Currently FREAKED.