Stir crazy

You would think that I’d be able to fix this myself.  The fact that I am completely trapped in my house.

I haven’t done my chores, which means I don’t get the car.  Which, normally, is absolutely fine.  It means more walking for me.  Or more biking.  Or just bumming rides off of everyone else.

Problem one:  I’m not supposed to walk (extensively) or bike due to my knee injury.  So not only have I no means of transporting myself, but I also can’t really excercise, which is driving me nuts.  I just feel like moving around all of the time, but I CAN’T!

Problem two:  My friends seem to have forgotten that I exist.  Granted, I haven’t really been around this summer.  When I have been home, I’ve either been keeping to myself or just so sick that I don’t want to leave my house.  But that pattern seems to have people not thinking of me when they go out to movies or to lunch or…  I know I’ll get back in without too much effort, but for right now I’m stuck at home while they’re all having fun up at Brighton and I have no way of getting up there with them.

Problem three:  I’m far too lazy to do my chores.

So I spend all of today just messing around with the internet and basically being bored all day on my computer.  Good times, no?

Happy Fourth of July– hopefully tomorrow I’ll have some good stories for you, as the fourth of July always seems to herald interesting events.

Take last year, for instance.  I know I didn’t write much about it on here, as I was in New Hampshire and completely away from a computer for about two or three weeks after the fourth.

Family reunion at Squam Lake, New Hampshire.  The day was great.  We watched a parade.  Ate ice cream.  Did regular summer things.  We went to see the fireworks in a neighborhood town (which were great) and got back to the cabin circa ten pm.  I didn’t feel like going to sleep.  I stayed up talking to Austin (my cousin) and Peter (my mother’s cousin, to whom I simply refer to as my uncle).  I had told Austin earlier that I would take him skinny dipping, as he’d never been before.

Peter asked if he could go along.  [insert long-assed story here].  Long story short Peter tried to molest me, and totally ruined the rest of my vacation.  My family totally tore itself apart and I just wasn’t equipped to handle the mess.  Not to mention the possibility that I could have totally misinterpreted.  (Which, by the way, I have come to mostly disregard, as I will trust myself in that situation and not him– but the idea that I might have falsely accused someone really bothered me at the time.)

Now, if you know anything about me, you’ll know that "one year"s are quite a big deal to me.  Okay, so it’s been one year.  Let’s make this fourth of July totally bitchin’.

…I just need to get out of my house first.