This summer is going to be sweet. It’s going to be unforgettable. You don’t know how or when or with whom, but you’re going to do something magnificent. Before the last lingering dregs of August have dried up and you must return once again to that peculiar place hundreds of miles away where they lecture at you and grade you and make you do all these things you don’t want to do, you’re going to spend this summer doing only the things you truly desire to do.
Before your summer kicks the proverbial bucket, you’re going to check off those boxes on that list you’re making to confirm that yes, you finally did that thing in that place with those people that you’d been wanting to do forever, and boy did you do it right. So whatever your summertime goals may be, here’s a little inspiration to get you going.
Learn how to play that sport you’ve always wanted to play. You’ve always wanted to know how to play tennis. Or perhaps for you, it’s golf. Maybe you’re just looking for an excuse to get the pro at your country club’s arms around you, guiding your swing as he whispers sweet, sweet nothings into your ear like, “I don’t think you’re getting it,” and “your putt is crap.” Sigh. So, whatever the reason, you go get ‘em, you fit bittie. Leave it all out there on the court—or whatever those sport types say.
Read a great classic novel. You’re not fulfilled flipping the pages of that flimsy tabloid and you know it. In red, caps-locked lettering, its cover proclaims: “WORST BEACH BODIES OF 2012,” and you hate yourself vehemently for the intrigue it incites. Your literary heart is empty, and you must fill it only with something truly substantial. Will it be War and Peace? Anna Karenina, perhaps? Oprah featured the latter in her book club, and you’d never deny an endorsement by Lady O. And hey, if you prefer American lit to that of Russia, re-read some Fitzgerald and drop lines of his work at the next particularly Gatsbian party you attend, you wild West-Egger, you.
Actually take that trip you’ve wanted to go on for, you know, ever. Every morning when you wake up, you open your tender eyes to the same 8x10 black and white poster of that couple kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower. You tacked it on your ceiling during that Francophile stage you had senior year of high school. The truth is, you have no idea who that couple is, and you’ve never actually seen the Eiffel Tower in the flesh, and both of these things make you really, really, desperately sad. So change that. Check out flights. Go there alone. Go there with friends. Just do it.
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