I know I post about summer a lot.  Actually, most of what I post about issummer. No, I don’t really care about it because of the tans and the beach and the lack of school, although they are all generous contributors.  It’s because summer is when I am me. Fully. Me. I go to places I never have chances to during the school year.  I come alive.  I can go to parties and travel and it’s like I’m a whole different person because I devote my time in the summer to making memories that will last me throughout the next school year.  Memories of who I can be, away from all of the people I dislike and all of the drama going on inside my tiny little head.  
Last summer, I went to Pittsburgh to visit one of my best friends for two and a half weeks like I do every summer.  It was a first for my visit to a big music fest in the valley.  It was my close friends’ last year of the summer camp that I still had a couple of years ahead of me at.  I met the most guys last summer.  I was barely ever home. If you ever wanted to hear a story about a boy or something crazy my friend and I might have done, I could rattle off ten in one minute if you asked. And they’d all be fantastic.  I guess what my point is, is that I’m a whole different person when it comes to the summer, and that’s what I cherish about it and what I miss so much.  That alternate me. And frankly, I can barely ever stop thinking about it.