Here, There, and Everywhere

I'm trying to savor these last days of summer as much as possible. I've been reading like crazy; I checked out my second stack of library books in a week yesterday, in an attempt to meet my self-made goal of twenty-five books. I did that last summer, but this year I added the condition that they have to be books I've never read before. A lot of the time during the school year I just reread favorites, usually because I'm taking a break from homework, so I guess I'm using summer as a chance to get through some different ones. I just finished The Time Traveler's Wife, which I enjoyed mostly because it was set in Chicago and included tons of references that I understood, like homeless people selling Streetwise, plus one of the main characters had a taste in music very similar to my dad's, so I recognized names like the Dead Kennedys and the Golden Palominos.

Yesterday my sister and I registered for school. The same thing happened that happens every year: I look forward to it, expecting to see a bunch of friends and teachers, and instead spend a weary hour or so standing in various lines, filling out forms, and sweating it out in the non-air-conditioned school, usually without seeing any friends. I also had an embarrassing experience while walking into school: a girl getting into her car remarked loudly to her comrade, "Girl, what she wearing? She need to try again." I glanced over and met her scornful eyes. Okay, so I wasn't exactly well-dressed, and I realize that a blue T-shirt, pink socks, and red Converse gym shoes don't really go together, but I hadn't really been paying attention when I dressed. And even though I generally disregard the opinions of such girls, it was still mortifying.

Today my dad took off work and took my sister and I to the zoo in Madison. We also walked around the UW campus a little bit. It seems really nice, and very quintessentially collegiate: a sunny quad, students strolling around with backpacks, people studying and/or chatting at tables along the lakefront. I also saw evidence of Madison's renowned activism: a lemonade stand with big signs: "STOP THE WAR" and "END THE VIOLENCE." I was momentarily attracted, but my dad breezed past without meeting the guy's eyes. I always feel stupid and obvious if I determinedly avert my eyes from someone selling something or begging on the street, so I usually give them a quick glance and an apologetic smile as I hurry past.

I don't really like the zoo; it's nice to walk around for an hour or so, but I don't really get any joy out of shuffling from one area to the next, staring at a cluster of rocks or trees for a few moments to locate the animal, watching it for a few moments, and then moving on. Maybe it's because I'm just not an animal person; no one in my family really is. We tolerate cats and dogs when visiting people who have them, and we have had our share of pets over the years: countless fish early on; a pair of gerbils won in a kindergarten raffle (they were class pets, but the school needed someone to take them after the year ended, and they lived for four more years); two hermit crabs (utterly boring creatures, basically shells that move once in a while); and our latest, Baxter the bunny, my personal favorite and a nice pet to have around until it became clear that he aggravated my dad's asthma). I'm more likely to recoil than to "Awww" if an animal approaches me, though.

Despite the fact that much of school equates to drudgery and nuisance, I'm still looking forward to it. There's only so many times you can watch The Prince and Me (I watched it last night, and I still am torn between laughter and nausea when Julia Stiles' character's mom says, "Chemistry isn't just in a class, honey, and you guys have it.").