SUMMERRRRRRRRRR

Hi, welcome to the Monday of my life. I cannot write my final essay for Humanities as it would currently sound something like "Julie Ransom, I have a small obsession with you and your unfairly perfect vocabulary. I'm the girl with un-honor-code hair, that comes late almost every week... only to step on the cute international boys feet, bookbag, and ego as i try to make it to my seat where I will almost surely not make it through class without gracelessly conking out on my desk. This is especially bad on hat days, when I wake up to see that during the unconscious state of my floating mind, my hat has knocked itself off... revealing my smooshed roll-outta-bed raunch hair. BUT... I mostly want to say that I love art. I love music. I love books. I love the things I learn when I'm awake--- awake and not staring at the one rugged shaggy boy two rows over. However, I don't know enough about any of these topics to analyze their existence during five different time periods. What I can do is go play outside. Because not only is there not an ounce of snowy soul-sucking deathy gusts of wind/snow... there is a sun... and a high of 78 degrees. I shaved my legs today. I haven't floated in a body of water since the hot pots... I haven't floated in a decent non-sulfury-raunch thing since I skinnydipped in DT pool last Fall. I'm a mess. I need grass. I can't stop this urge I have to mack the foxy boy in my ward, who, is absolutely perfect until he starts talking about colon cleansing and his highschool prom... which should be a couple years further away than it was. Still though, young and immature as he is, I've got some serious fever. So no, I don't want to write about naked greek statues or ancient frescoes because... pretty sure I won't get an A for talking about my soul... and pretty sure I don't know how to talk about anything else when it comes to art and things. Pretty sure I just want to steal a popsicle from the office and go frolic in the fields."