OH SNAP? NO SNAP.

What’s that in the air? It’s not swine flu, it’s WEB DESIGN FEVER. Not only does this mean that I developed the totes official GAY SCIENCE website this long Memorial Day weekend, but I’m also hard at work on my own most legit website, which will not only include all of the archived posts from this blog, but also some film projects I’ve done, and a list of all the kind magazines that have published my poems, and news from my summertime ambition to watch all of the films in the Criterion Collection. So, I’m telling you this because nothing new is going to be going on around here, and even if you only read my blog to re-read my doubtlessly well-written posts about manicures, you should re-read them on the new and very official actual DOT COM website I have going on over at fruitofthesea.com OKAY?

Okay. Yes. Permanent re-direct starts NOW.

TOM PETTY WAS A TRUTH WIZARD

when he said that the waiting is the hardest part. Dude, I know. But the waiting is pretty much over. I received the last rejection from the various residencies I applied to, and instead of being all oh cruel world about getting dissed across the board, I was just kind of glad about making it through the Uncertainty Period and arriving, blissfully exhausted, on summer’s doorstep.

Because I love summer, even though I don’t always admit it. I don’t always admit it because I consider summer a big season of self-improvement, the way some people see January 1. I don’t think I would have developed this weird expect-a-makeover-miracle attitude if I hadn’t spent most of my life in school. In high school especially I would spend the summer plotting my rise to popularity by trying to lose weight and attempting to become cooler through many small adjustments and studied aspirational research in fashion magazines. And then August would roll around, seldom bringing any of the visible changes I pined for, which is why I kind of hate summer, too.

But oops, nothing has changed. This summer my big plans include learning everything I can about electronic music, watching the entire Criterion Collection (or at least the portion they have at I Luv Video, which is a little more manageable than the 800-something films included in the whole collection), and working out every day. Plus all kinds of aspirational fun (making art movies! dancing! developing impenetrable inside jokes with friends!), you know, the kind of fun you can envision very clearly but only as a fuzzy montage based on wacky times montages from ’80s movies. Or am I the only one who does that? Okay.

Anyway, the point is that now that graduation is over, I’m finally feeling excited about all of this stuff. I was secretly depressed most of last semester. I say “secret” because I didn’t want to admit for some reason that I was struggling with such predictable emotions. I felt like the bloom was off the rose. I felt like everything I was doing was less good than the stuff I had made before. Silly nonsense, but not completely unreasonable since I’ve watched friends deal with this same sense of let-down after the Michener gravy train pulled into Graduation Station. But it isn’t so bad in Graduation Station, because all of these people show up to remind you about what was so great about you. And do you know what I say to that? I say YES. I say BRING ON THE FUTURE.