It's the End of the Summer As We Know It

In exactly one week, I will be writing from this computer sitting atop of my UAlbany dorm bed, and you have no idea how excited I am. I love the summer, I really do. I get to see my friends from home (rather, friend, since many of my high school friends have drifted away), hang out with my family, and eat very good food (I never minded the dining hall as much as my friends from school, but honestly, a home cooked meal always seems to taste better), but it also means the familiarity of what life was like before college.

It's not bad, but it always makes me feel like I'm living in the summer after senior year all over again, even though I know what to expect. I'm anxious to return, even though I have an 18 credit workload this upcoming semester, and I'm probably going to drive myself nuts. But I love being around people my age, who are doing the same thing I'm doing, and who are facing the same problems as I'm facing. We seem to be going to college in an incredibly hard time, and I really hope that I get an internship in the fall. I'm crossing my fingers that it might boost up my resume a little bit, because in all honesty, I'm scared of the day after I graduate.

Anyway, I just wanted to say that when I get back to school, I will have access to the internet more, and I know I usually promise that I'll write more, but I always fail to follow through. So let's hope I'll try harder and write more.

Williamsburg

One of my favorite places to visit is Williamsburg, Virginia, known for its vast history and tourist attractions. It hasn't ever seemed like one of those tacky tourist towns, even though, technically, it is one. Sure, there are the occasional souvenir shops, trying to make their money by making cheap replicas of old artifacts and selling them at ridiculously high prices (like for instance, this bell I rang in the store, which came to $89.95), but there is a particular charm about the place that really can't be ignored.

First off, if anyone ever decides to vacation in Williamsburg, they have to,

without a doubt, check out the historic section, because while Busch Gardens may be fun, there's nothing like walking down a street, listening to the fifes and feeling like you're back at the start of our country. I've been there at least two or three times already in my life, and I still love going back.

The houses are quaint, the gardens are exquisite, and the whole setup reminds me how good we have life today. The heat was unbearably stifling ( literally, every time I walked out of the air conditioned buildings, it was like I ran into a wall of warmth), and by the time the day ended, my feet were killing me from my stupid decision to wear flip flops (I was wearing a skirt though! I can't wear my sneakers with a skirt!). It was still totally worth it. I even managed to take pictures today, which means I can share them, for the first time ever. I hope everyone is excited about this as I am. I hope you like them.

To explain this as best as I can:

Picture #1 is the green in front of the governor's mansion.

Picture #2 is the armory.

Picture #3 is a post to tie up horses. (I think anyway. It just looked cool.)

Picture #4 is one of the houses along the main street you walk down.

Picture #5 is a lamp post in front of another building.

Picture #6 is a little shop that you can actually buy things from.

Picture #7 is the capital building.

Picture #8 is a staircase I discovered while finding my way through the maze behind the governor's mansion.

Picture #9 is the garden directly behind the mansion.

Picture #10 is the mansion yet again, but from a better point of view.

John Hughes, 59

When I opened up the newspaper yesterday, I didn't intend on reading anything over the top. There were the familiar tidbits of information about car wrecks (which are really common during the summer time), the economy, and lawmakers. Of course, every day since it's happened, some long article about the Diane Schuler accident on the Taconic Parkway shows up about three pages in, and even though I know I should read it, it practically breaks my heart every time I try. Tragedy is one thing, but when it involves innocent children, it becomes something so much more. After I turned the page, briefly skimming what that article was about, I read the small and insignificant celebrity columns. I always read them (I have to admit, I used to be wildly obsessed with the Perez Hilton website), even if they have no impact whatsoever on my life, because there is always something scandalous/interesting/et cetera happening with their lavish lives. But when I dove in, ready to digest some fluff, I realized that I was gulping down an obituary. John Hughes, iconic director of Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles, and so much more, died at the age of 59. My heart plummeted.

I have an immense admiration for the films mentioned above; they are, after all, some of my favorites. I have seen Pretty in Pink at least five times already, and yet, it still never gets

old. Molly Ringwald, while I never thought her amazingly pretty, always lit up the screen, and the actors who got to play along with her were unforgettable.

Who can forget Jon Cryer's Duckie? He was the biggest nerd with the weirdest fashion sense (or was it just me looking back at the clothes of the 80s that made it so horrible). How about Anthony Michael Hall as The Geek in Sixteen Candles?

These characters are one of a kind, as well as the movies. Still, 20 or so years after they first debuted in theaters, they manage to have an enormous effect on pop culture.

Goodbye John Hughes, you will be sadly missed.

Windmills

It seems like forever since I've written on this last, but after a whirlwind of slow internet connections (or sometimes even NO internet connections) and trips, I have finally gotten the chance to write yet again, and this time I'm heading back to one of my favorite topics, energy saving! But this time, it might even be interesting.

As I sat in the car that took me five hours away from home to Buffalo, NY, I noticed something really cool moving in the mountains about a mile away...windmills. I know some people are used to seeing windmills but to me, they are a foreign delight. They were like white towers in the distance, spinning in the wind (sometimes they didn't move though, which I don't understand). Not only are they a staple of visual pleasure, they also convert wind into electricity, rather than miles and miles of power lines stretching across the land.

When you get to a certain area near Arcade, NY, when the road dips down into a more valley-ish landscape, the mountains are littered with hundreds of these things. Not only can you not ignore them, you can't pass them by without falling into awe.

They are bigger than I had ever thought they could be, which makes sense, given how much they do. I literally took out my sister's camera and recorded the drive (which I'm not going to show...because I sound like an idiot and I didn't really possess the greatest of skills in holding it). I remember sharing my fascination with my family (who I was actually supposed to be visiting, not the windmills) and listening to what they had to say too.

My mother's aunt shared how she thought they were pieces of art that really could be a tourist attraction. She was totally right! They were pieces of art, because no matter how many times I saw them twirl outside my window, I had to see more. I just wanted to lay underneath them and hear and feel the magnificence of their duties. I'm not exactly sure how low they get to the ground however, which could impose a problem.

So maybe they aren't the most exciting things ever, and perhaps they may be used in a lot of places all over the world, but honestly, if you haven't seen them yet, go. It's pretty awesome.