So I guess this is it...

...the Official Summer Wrap-up. To be honest, I don't feel particularly inclined to write a long, beautifully introspective essay, not with everything that's going on, but I do have a few lists.

Stuff I Accomplished This Summer:
--I did a heck of a lot of Russian research, making a few thousand dollars in the process.
--I drank a total of several Third World countries' worth of coffee.
--I survived both of my parents' weddings with nary a scratch on me.
--I played "I Believe In A Thing Called Love" with a random bar band and, though extremely tipsy, managed to change their preconceptions about small, female guitarists. I hope.
--I didn't go insane.

Things I Learned This Summer:
--Before you get married, you have to get your blood tested for syphillis.
--Neither my parents nor my new stepparents have syphillis.
--Porn movies--especially ones with pirates in them--are dumb.
--It's futile to pretend that going from having two parents and a brother to having two parents, two stepparents, two stepbrothers and a new house, all in a couple months, doesn't affect me.
--To quote an oft-seen "C2" commercial and Rolling Stones song: you can't always get what you want. But I already knew that.
--According to Newsweek, approaching things with a positive attitude adds five years to your life. I'm still trying to decide if that's worth it.

Good Things I Saw Or Went To:
--The "Burn Down The Disco" indie dance party.
--"Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle."
--"Avenue Q" and conversing with one of that show's main actors, not to mention seeing Helen Mirren in the audience.
--"Garden State."
--The last ever show of my ex's band, or at least the last one with him in it.

Low Points:
--My purse getting stolen.
--Today and the past three, maybe four days.

A Cliche To Describe This Summer:
--"Emotional Roller Coaster"

Another Cliche:
--"You can't go home again"--and I mean that both metaphorically, in that going back home is far from a return to pre-college life, and literally: come Thanksgiving, I won't be able to go home to my mom's house. Instead I'll sleep in the "guest bedroom" in the new one. I'll be a guest. Not part of a family unit. A guest.
Also, when it comes to future summers, I really can't go home again. Because if I do, I believe I'll turn homicidal.