Mister we could use a man Like Herbert Hoover again.

Me - Dad, how do you feel about Herbert Hoover?
Dad - Hmm. I don't know what I think about him. I don't think he was a good president.
Mom - They named a dam after him.
Dad - They don't say much about him in history. I don't think he was any good.

I'm sitting in my parents' living room tonight, trying to be around people. Summer can be a dangerous thinking time for me. I learned that the hard way, somewhere around 6th or 7th grade. But I digress. My dad is in his recliner, my mother in her chaise, an I am on the couch between them. Mom is playing a mindless game on her laptop, occasionally glancing at me, especially when I sigh. My dad hasn't looked up from the movie on his laptop in 15 minutes. This is how it is often times when I'm here. I glance back and forth, wondering why. Why do they choose this? I love my parents a lot, but their lives seem boring as hell to me. But they enjoy it. They enjoy sitting in the room together, sitting in silence. I often times wonder how they go together; I've wondered it for years. My mom tells me it's because they committed themselves to each other in front of God, for forever. So I suppose if this way works for them, then that's great. I hope I never spend my Saturday nights sitting in silence, emotionally connected only to a flip screen, a keyboard, and a set of ear plugs. Perhaps someday it will work for me too. But not today.

I came to visit them. I was under the assumption that most normal humans engage in light conversation when called upon. I was mistaken in this case. Of course, my father went through his usual list of questions.. "What did you do today?" "Have you eaten?" "Do you know how so and so did in their class? Someone at the store said they failed." But after griping about the Russian Dating Site pop-up, whistling the introductory tune to All In the Family, and muttering a few other unintelligible things to himself, he settled in for his movie.

" A good many things go around in the dark besides Santa Claus." -Herbert Hoover

:)

I got my own apartment, turned 21, had some delicious Margaritas, studied my BUTT off, took my final and made an 81 when I needed a 77, passed Level 2 theory(!!!), squeaked by with a C in Level 2 clinical, cleaned said apartment, and took several excessively long naps.

Life is good.

"You must be new.."

At the hospital this week, after spending five minutes contradicting herself on how she wanted her chair to be, an old lady asked me if it was my first day at that job. Thank you rude old lady.

fml.

Terrapene carolina

I'm sitting in the fourth floor of the library, staring out at the bayou. I should be studying. Instead, I'm watching turtles swim. Do you wonder if turtles worry? If they hurt? I watch as one big turtle, perhaps the big kahuna, slices through the muddy water. He leaves a cleared path that stays long after he has passed. As I begin to think about how we too leave a path, I watch another smaller turtle fall in line behind him. I wonder if the little turtle looks up to the big turtle. I wonder if the little turtle even sees him anymore, of if he's simply following the effects of the big turtles passing. I wonder the same for me.. for all of us really.
There's a few brave turtles in the middle of the bayou, but most stay near the shore. It's muddy and full of vines and stagnation, but it's safe. When they tire of swimming, they can rest. Some are sitting just deep enough to where they can't possibly reach the bottom. Must they work to stay afloat? That's where I'm swimming these days. Near enough to the shore to call a time out when I want, but just deep enough to where I'm still working. I feel as though maybe it's easier just to swim across than to constantly stay afloat.

A girl is sitting in a study cubby near me eating a sammich. Tehe.