One Special Summer

So what do you do when it's midnight and you really want to go to sleep but you just can't? You get on blogger, of course, and pour out the thoughts that are keeping you awake into the virtual space of the internet. Maybe after you write it all down you'll be able to sleep. Maybe.

At least the thoughts that are keeping me awake aren't bad ones. In fact, my hypothalamus is insisting that my entire brain take a jog down memory lane, back to the summer that I still refer to as "the best summer ever." It was the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of high school. I experienced a lot of firsts while still being cradled by the familiarity of routine. That summer, for the first time, I traveled out of the country, I delved into the fantastic world of Harry Potter, I began my running career, it was the first and only time my best and longest friend came to visit me from California, I met Ashlee Simpson, and I enjoyed the simplicity of daily pick-up games with the guys on the high school soccer team.

Despite doing a lot of different things that summer like traveling to England, France, and Scotland with my mom and step dad and waiting in line for hours at the Galleria Mall in Sherman Oaks with my dad to meet Ashlee Simpson (my dad was one of the only men in line, let alone one of the few to be over the age of 25), I enjoyed the routine that summer in a small town allowed me. Each day I slept in a little, watched Full House every afternoon, read, and ate Frosted Flakes with chocolate milk before playing soccer with the guys. I got so good at soccer that summer. Sweating it out in the humidity every day with quick-footed players only improved my skills. Shirts vs. skins. I was always a shirt. For 10 minutes we play one-touch, then for 10 minutes we play two-touch, then free play for the remainder of the time. Score. Go home. Repeat.

Three times a week before our pick-up games, my coach would take us all on a run through the forest preserve behind the high school. We ran what the locals refer to as the "outer loop." The outer loop is 2.6 miles and a beautiful sight the entire way. Running through the tree tunnels, down the valleys, sloshing in mud pits, and jumping the creeks, the first time I ran the outer loop was with my soccer coach. I loved it. Who knew that running could be so enjoyable even if it caused your fingers to swell and legs to ache? I loved running the outer loop so much that I started running it every day, even without my coach and the other guys. Sometimes I would see the high school cross-country team running and we would exchange hellos. Little did I know that I would later give up my love of soccer during my senior year to run with them instead, that I would become good enough to run at a division 1 institution, or that I would run a marathon. At that point, I just wanted to get in better shape.

Aside from the routine of that summer, I was so carefree. I didn't have a job because I didn't have to pay for anything. I didn't have a credit card then; I had five Harry Potter books and all the time in the world to read them. That was when my mom still bought me books. If I wanted a book, she would undoubtedly buy it for me. Ironically enough, I think she felt sorry for me because I couldn't drive and both she and my step dad worked all day so I was stuck at home until one of my friends would drive me to soccer in the evening. Hence the Full House and bowls of Frosted Flakes every day. Actually, I would eat Frosted Flakes by choice. Bob Saget on the other hand...

Anyway, there used to be a local bookstore near my mom's office. Sometimes when she had to be at her office she would take me along and drop me off at the bookstore where I would spend the next few hours leafing through prospective reads until I made my final purchase. When I wasn't looking for something specific to buy, I simply read, of course. The bookstore lit the fireplace sometimes even in the summer which made you forget that time existed altogether. Suddenly the seasonal distinction between summer and winter, between hot and cold no longer was relevant because the fireplace was burning during both. As I sat in the comfy chairs by the fire, I devoured the paper lives of Harry Potter, Elizabeth Bennet, and many others that I'm sure still live within the nooks and crannies of my subconscious. I could sink into another world entirely. It was a vacation that I could purchase for $24.95, or less, if I bought the paperback version.

When my friend Taylor visited me, she stayed for about a week at the end of the summer. I don't remember exactly what we did. I just remember enjoying it. The routine of summer wasn't disrupted when she was here because we just were. We've always been like sisters in that we don't need to do things together to be together. All it takes for us is to sit in the same room and be. So, we just were.

And that's how I think of that one really special summer. Everything was perfect. It just was.