get me to a farm.

Someone get me to this place, stat. Along with this being the summer of the mountains, this is also going to be my irresponsible summer. All I've wanted in the past few days is to get myself to a wide-open space, where I can run around, arms flailing behind me, Maria von Trapp-style. When I'm not working, I've been irresponsible in the very best of ways. Life has been all about spontaneity, doing things at the drop of a hat, not thinking much about what I should be doing instead.

But isn't that what summer is for? 

BBQs, friends, swimming, baseball, soccer, bike rides, late nights. That's what these months were made for, so why not take advantage of it? Real life can wait, I think, at least for right now.

I always thought I was a beach girl, made for sand and waves. But I think I'm changing. I'm all about mountains, lakes, fields, and white picket fences right now. I want to live in a farm house. I want to swing from a rope into a pond, followed by sitting on a porch swing with a banjo and watermelon. Watermelon! Grown in the garden on the side of my house, obviously. I want to wake up with the sun and ride a horse, then spend a few hours just sitting in a wheat field.

Kinda weird how you change, isn't it?