On the Road Again...

I am having the summer of grand adventures. Hilton Head was fun, full of sunshine, surprise storms, ice cream, and raspberry lemonade. And, for Father's Day, we went to the Outer Banks, a string of islands along the coast of North Carolina. While other families go for a beach vacation, we went for a history lesson. Roanoke Island was home to one of the first English colonies, funded by Sir Walter Raleigh, and birthplace of the first English child born on American soil. The colonists also disappeared, never to be seen of or heard from again. Hence the name, "The Lost Colony." But my favorite part of Roanoke was the Elizabethan Gardens, created in the 50's. The flowers were beautiful, particularly the hydrangeas. Hydrangeas are my favorite flower, and the ones in North Carolina are the gorgeous, deep blue/purple blossoms variety that I adore.

And now I am in Athens, Georgia, where I spent all four years of high school, waiting on the brink of my next adventure. I am excited and anxious all in one, and this makes me a bit difficult to handle, I'm sure. I've visited some of my old stomping-grounds, including Borders and the Atlanta Highway Chick-fil-A. I've also tried some new things, like cupcakes from Gigi's (I love, love, love cupcakes) and wine from Shiraz (I felt very grown up). So I'm keeping busy-ish. It's odd, being back. I haven't been in Athens for two years, so everything is either nostalgically familiar or discordantly new. I don't usually get to go back to places I've lived, so it's a very strange experience. But it's not an unpleasant one, so hopefully I'll be able to repeat it in the future. So, until Tuesday, Athens is my grand adventure.

Photographs of Summer

Sunset and an avid kite flyer of Hilton Head

Bazooka Joe, my trusty steed. No tumbles this summer (so far). 

Exploring what's left of the Lost Colony of Roanoke, Island. 

My favorite flowers.

The Elizabethan Gardens in Roanoke. The statue of Queen Elizabeth, combined with the flowers, gave it a very Alice in Wonderland feel. Off with your heads!

"They bricked up the Rabbit Hole!" my mother bemoaned.

Media Mayhem

I realize that I've neglected books. Sad, because I like books. And I've been reading a great number of books, as a matter of fact. Because, for my birthday, I invested in a Kindle. (Between that, and my new KitchenAid mixer, it was a pretty great, and wholesome, 21st birthday.)

My first classic down is Wilkie Collins' The Woman in White. It was a surprisingly frustrating mystery, leaving me tense right to the epilogue. Of course, that might have been the long car ride in 95 degree weather. Still, it was good. Now I've started a book I've been meaning to read since 11th grade: Les Miserables. I know it's going to be a challenge, but it's becoming kind of a tradition.

I've also taken advantage of low-priced books to read some Young Adult books I missed out on when I was, well, a young adult. I read The Hunger Games and the first book of the Artemis Fowl series, and I thought they were both fantastic. I'm kind of jealous that they weren't around when I was in need of books like that. Then I remember that I had (and still have) Harry Potter, Redwall, and His Dark Materials. (Still, it would've been nice to have all of them.) I also read Howl's Moving Castle, by Diana Wynne Jones. I probably shouldn't admit this, considering my Japanese minor, but I've never seen Hayao Miyazaki's film version of it. But now I want to. Badly.

Reading those books has also kept me in the world I love so much. Sci-fi/Fantasy isn't the most lauded of genres. In fact, beyond a selected few authors, it's pretty much derided. But I love fantasy. My nose has been buried in fantasy novels since one of my best friends in middle school introduced me to David Eddings' Belgariad series. (Thanks Sam!) From Eddings, it was a downward spiral from infatuation to a long-term relationship. And, thanks to my recent focus on more "literary" fare, it's also been a long-distance relationship. I'd almost forgotten that first love, even though it's what I write.

It had to stop. At first, it was a drive to be grounded in the foundational fantasy, to read the authors that created the cliches. I felt that it was necessary to be familiar with those works in order to be a better writer. I know. Sounds like fun. I still think it's a good idea, but I really need to stop intellectualizing it. Because, in the end, I'm pretty sure it's an excuse to read fantasy, when I really don't need one. Maybe I rationalize things out of habit.

And after reading Artemis Fowl and Howl's Moving Castle, I remembered how fun reading is. I only get to read for fun in the summer, and I plan on making the most of this one.

A Peaches and Cream Complexion

...now looks like a strawberry shortcake complexion. For the first time in a while, my legs have burned. The Sun found the weaknesses in my spray-on sunscreen, leaving me with racing stripes down the sides of my legs. I look like a walking track suit. It's like Mother Nature got tired of my usual paint job, and tried to make me a little more interesting. With spray paint. C'est la guerre.

Sunburn not withstanding, I enjoyed dinner on the beach at sunset. Whilst we ate wings and sushi, families in the perquisite white and khaki took their family portraits. Kids moaned. Wind mussed hair. Smiles grew tired. The whole experience was fascinating to observe, like an anthropological study of middle America, desperate to preserve their family in a choreographed picture. I, for one, would prefer more color. Khaki is too close to beige to make me entirely comfortable.

Out of My Element

Last night, my aunt gave me my twenty-first birthday present, a silver bracelet from Egypt. It says, in Arabic, "my eyes love you." My eyes love you. I think that's a beautiful phrase. When you love someone or something, it's that look, in the eyes, on wedding days and birthdays and every other day of the week. When hands are held and hugs are given and tears are shed, there's that look. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say, and that's when the eye is changed by love.

And then there's another meaning. There's something of certain people, something that they have. The French phrase for it, which I am painstakingly teaching to my mother, is "je ne sais quoi." Literally, it means "I don't know what." Confidence, charisma, the X factor, "it," what have you. Some people have it, that mysterious allure of personality that overshadows almost everything else. It makes the eyes love.

So I leave you with that, and the love of my eyes.

Blockbusters and Old Favorites

I love movies. I love television. I don't always have the greatest taste in either, to be honest. It doesn't work out for my friends and family, who have learned (or probably should soon) to take my opinions with a shaker of salt. But it works out really well for me, because I generally have a good time when others shake their heads and mutter about filters (I didn't notice Order of the Phoenix was entirely blue until someone told me) and lens flares (which I can forgive, because it's J.J. Abrams). Those low standards of mine particularly apply to action-y and/or sci-fi/fantasy movies. Superheros, dragons, spies, and wizards can battle to their hearts' content, and I'm usually satisfied. (For exceptions to this rule, see Eragon.)

So, because it's summer and I love action movies and my brother is in town for my big 2-1 tomorrow, the two of us went with my dad to see X-Men: First Class. I have soft spots for Jennifer Lawrence (Mystique) after seeing Winter's Bone and Michael Fassbender (Magneto) for Inglorious Basterds and Jane Eyre, and they're in a superhero movie, so I knew that I would like it. Thankfully, I needed no defense this time. It was funny (Hugh Jackman's cameo is hysterical), somewhat character-driven, and Magneto lifts a frickin' submarine out of the ocean. Enough said.

I've also been watching my favorites, "oldies" that haven't grown, well, old. I spent the past week on a mini-marathon of Firefly and Serenity. And now, I'm revisiting a summer tradition: a disjointed Lord of the Rings marathon. Extended editions, of course. So, while Gandalf scolds his young hobbit companions and Theoden delivers morbid monologues, I write, comforted by the familiar dialogue and masterful soundtrack. There are worse ways to while away a lazy summer evening.

Another old favorite, which I haven't been able to enjoy in its full glory for two years, is Chick-fil-A. I've had it twice in the past three days, and I'm already planning on bringing some with me when school starts again. I wonder if I can freeze the chicken nuggets...

Camp Chairs and Air Mattresses

On Tuesday, after nearly fourteen hours of driving, our trusty Volvo station wagon (affectionately known as either the "Man Wagon" or "Invisi-Car," depending on who's driving) pulled into our temporary living arrangements in Raleigh, North Carolina. To say those arrangements are spartan would win you the Daily Double, should my life ever be turned into a Jeopardy category. So yesterday we went in search of camp chairs, to add to the classy decor of air mattresses, a card table, and folding chairs.

I write now from my Dick's Sporting Goods chair, complete with cup holder and marginal lumbar support. My coffee is in a used McCafe cup, we're eating on paper plates, and I'm pretty sure my mattress is deflating. It is, however, a great deal of fun. (This is also, I should note, the closest to camping I care to get.) Our apartment complex has a fitness center, so I've returned to the treadmill, and no Wi-fi, so I've actually done some writing.

I think my parents (at least my mother) feel a little guilty, considering that this Sunday is my birthday, and we don't even have a microwave. And this transitional housing deal, with the rock-hard Flinstone furniture, is something we've always sought to endure, not enjoy. But I get to spend time with family, write to my heart's content, and my mom feels too sorry for me to get angry that I watched 5 episodes of Firefly in a row. That's my kind of summer.

And, despite its appearance, a camp chair feels very much like a throne, and that makes me happy.