As is custom...

...some musings on these past few months, now that they're (sob) over:

--Housesitting rocks. I can't recommend it enough. I'm pretty sure I'm not going to find a better living situation than that one for at least five or six years. Yes, there was a little housemate drama, and we'll see if the three of us are ready to bite each other's heads off after Russia, but for the most part we simply enjoyed the benefits of free housing, free cooking supplies and free alcohol.

--The meal plan? So over it. Okay, so I had to drop a couple pounds and eat some truly nasty dinners before I got the hang of the whole feeding myself thing, but once I did...wow. Unlike eating at the dining hall, cooking is a rewarding experience. The food's healthier and usually tastes better, and--the best part--you know what goes into it.
Also, there's the option of grilling. Carcinogens be damned: the grill is, hands down, the best way to cook anything. If I could grill soup, I would. And I'm sure it would be far more delicious than the boring old stovetop version.

--When in Rome, do as the Romans; when in Southern California, drive. It truly is a different place when seen from behind the wheel. For starters, it exists--which, for all intents and purposes, doesn't happen when you're stuck in Claremont. It's kind of sad that there's no way to beat the system, but once you conform, there's no going back. We'll see what happens in the spring, when I'm either car-less and insane or burdened with a half-dead minivan and crippling insurance payments.

--The radio isn't as bad as I thought. I reached this conclusion mainly through KROQ and Indie 103.1, which, while far from indie, seems to know that some people don't immediately associate rock with Linkin Park.

--That being said, what exactly is "indie" radio's fascination with the Smiths all about? I don't get it. I'm as big a rock snob as any, but if the Smiths and Bon Jovi were both trapped inside a burning building, I know which one I'd rescue. The choice is made even easier because Morrissey wouldn't be too upset about it. He'd probably even write a song.

--I got more sun than I knew how to deal with. There was a bad burn at the beginning of the summer (correction: it was an OK burn. Anything that doesn't result in hundreds of painful blisters is an OK burn.) Mostly, though, my skin struggled to replace its natural pastiness with a golden brown glow, producing dubious results. Hopefully the utter lack of sun in Russia will balance out any harmful effects, although it probably doesn't work that way.