strangers

Summer=reading, and summer reading, but I always end up reading too many other books that are not assigned, and it's always late August or early September by the time I start SUMMER READING, which is of course the most important thing to be doing.

The library in this small town in northern Virginia reminds me of the Secret Garden, because there used to be a secret stairway hidden by ivy-covered walls that led to a sundial that was always wrong. Now I realize that the stairway was never really a secret after all, and that it leads to the main road, and that everybody could see it the whole time. Most of the ivy is gone now anyway. The library never has all of the SUMMER READING books I need, and always seems to be small and empty now.

Nearly everything in this town, even the library, is a stranger to me now, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. I still have one friend here. She is back from Russia now and dancing to a cd on the boombox. We make fun of teeny boppers and blast Alejandro through open car windows. I can stop worrying about college and The Extended Essay long enough for Lady Gaga.