The weekend was a success for several reasons:
1) I went salsa dancing on Friday with Rachel and Jessie
2)Eryn and I fixed a pinic lunch and studied on the quad. And when I say study, I mean talk about the lifetime movies she has seen. Good times.
3)I had a really good voice lesson on Sunday, and managed to watch less than ten seconds of the Superbowl.
I have decided that I want to go to the ocean for spring break. By myself. The idea of a road trip is an attractive part of Americana—there is a lyric from Songs of Travel: “To the heart of youth, the world is a highwayside, passing forever--he fares.” Driving in a gas-guzzling car to nowhere in particular…alone…such a vivid image of Howard Roark individualism.
I had never seen a picture of the ocean when it was cloudy before, but that is what I imagine it to be when I get there. Then I will walk into the gray surf singing with all my clothes on and rub the salt water in my hair. And walk down into the sea. He to his nobler fate fares…and his face is gone (is gone).