I’ve had the most fun summer since I was ten or eleven or whenever when my parents dropped me and my sister off at the farm while they took a more mature set of cousins to colonial Williamsburg. That summer we played with the barn cats, saw bears eating out of a garbage dump, went to a Cheech & Chong movie with my cousin’s girlfriend in a metallic blue Firebird Trans Am just like the one in Smokey & the Bandit, went tubing, went to Hershey Park and watched another cousin make out with yet another cousin’s babysitter. It was an exhilarating, educational summer for a sheltered girl.
I did many of the same or similar activities this summer. I lived on a farm—with free range chickens instead of barn cats. I went to Hershey Park and rode rollercoasters for the first time in probably 20 years—they’ve gotten much more harrowing since the olden days. Yesterday I went canoeing on a slowish patch of the James River, which only took a little more exertion than tubing. Also—my sister and I visited Sharon in New York, and we all went to see the Morning 40 play the Mercury Lounge. Ryan Scully puked on stage. That’s rock n roll. Also, I went hiking four or five times in the gorgeous Shenandoah National Park. I’ve been working at a great place in Charlottesville, and have also explored Staunton and Richmond. All in Virginia, which is undoubtedly the most beautiful state on the eastern seaboard, and a contender for the national title.
It seems like law school was a great idea, just because it led me to this summer. And I have a clear idea of what and where I’m aiming for after graduation. But in three weeks it will be over and I dread going back, to New Orleans and the relentless work of the school year. I’ve missed New Orleans now and then. I still feel guilt and regret at the thought of leaving. But, to paraphrase Prince, all the things I’d lose don’t add up to all the things I’d gain.
