A Near-Zebra Experience / Stories From The Fort!

As I write this, I'm getting more and more pumped up for my trip this weekend to Hershey, PA. I've been planning this, along with nine of my good friends, for months now, and it's time for the payoff! We'll be camping, going to Hershey Park, and seeing the Dave Matthews Band play on Saturday night. I'll write all about it when I get back.

... Last night, Gina and I went to the Salem Fair, right down the road from where I'm working this summer. The only thing I don't like about fairs, usually, are the guys working the game stands that always try to heckle you into playing one of their overpriced games for some semi-lame prize. This was kept to a minimum at this year's fair in Salem (either that, or I didn't let it bother me much), so I was pleased. Actually, the best part was right from the get-go, when we went into the petting zoo tent. Watching Gina, a future vet-in-training, go crazy with all the cute animals planted a smile right on my face. Being with her when she's around animals makes me appreciate the critters that much more. I think the zebra and I got to be pretty good buddies over the course of our little safari. I'll post some pictures from the tent - and the fair - soon.

... Before I sign off for the big weekend, I wanted to share some feelings from my trip back to West Virginia last week. I guess it had only been a month since I'd been there last, but it felt far longer than that, and I must admit that when I arrived on Friday evening, something felt different. It could've been the presence of my grandma, who is now living with mom and dad. It could've been that my room had become the overflow for things mom didn't quite know what to do with, so it looked less and less like how I remember my room should be. I'm not sure why, but I just felt ... out of tune with home. Some would say this is a sign that I'm growing up, and at first, that's just plain scary to think about.

Over the course of the weekend, though, and as I hung out with my family and got to see Joe on Saturday, my incongruity seemed to smooth around its rough edges a bit. I think I came to terms with the different things that were bothering me. Sure, I wish I could spend more time at home, but it's not like I'm wasting my time at school, either. I look at my friends who have already graduated and realize that I'm ready to start making my own life, too. I'm not sure what that's going to involve, but I'm ready. Home is always going to be there, in some form or another, and I'm not going to let that go, which is a plus. There's not much I can do to tie Time's hands behind his back and make him run backwards (however funny a sight that would be), anyway, so I've gotten a renewed mission to make the rest of this summer the Best Summer Ever. And then I'm going to extend my mission and make this fall the Best Fall Ever. This weekend should help to make that all happen, and nothing's gonna break my stride. Ain't nothin' gonna hold me down!

... Here's an expanded version of a comment I made on Daryl's d103:

I got in a fight with a fly while watching a DVD at home. It was one of those lazy flies that doesn't really move when you first swat at it. I've always wondered what was up with those. Are they battle-hardened veterans that have been blinded by fly-swats and bug spray? Or are they the stoners of the fly world, hopped up on filth and unmotivated to do much actual flying? Whichever the answer (because it's got to be one or the other), this little bugger would only move across the room and back when I swatted at him. This went on for several minutes, until I used my lightning-fast reflexes to actually pin him under my foot! Success! Brilliant!

Sure he was dead, I removed my foot with a mental note to wash it soon and moved to scrape the fly's remains off the furniture. As it so happens, he was only playing Fly Trick #4 on me. Yes, the old "play dead" routine. I should have known! Before I could get the adrenaline rush needed to use my lightning-fast reflexes, he had already flown away to safety.

The moral of the story? Fly drugs make flies smarter, after all.