It’s weird the moments of your childhood that end up influencing you. It was the summer after third grade and I was at summer camp. This particular summer camp experience apparently had more of an impact than most of my other years at summer camp. It was during those three weeks in Vermont that I walked into a glass door while trying to impress my cabinmates with my stunt skills (that was going to be one of my future careers after all. Singing in the Rain may have had more of an influence on me than it should have). From that experience I had to get stitches in my shoulder and picked up an obtrusive bumpy scar. It’s barely noticeable now, which I find so peculiar because it used to draw so much attention. A pink, irregular bump on my shoulder that looked like a nasty over-sized bug bite. My parents almost talked me into getting surgery to make it smaller, but there was the tiniest chance it could be even bigger at the end of it and I would have none of that. Now it barely protrudes at all.

We were talking about the future of our relationship. Talks like these have to happen if you are going to entertain the idea of long distance, which apparently we are, despite being told by everyone and their mother how difficult it is. My mother hasn’t necessarily weighed in, but I believe she’s of a similar mindset.

And the question came up as to why we don’t fight.

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Living in the Midwest has not afforded me a lot of time to travel around the East Coast. I missed all of the reunions back at college during that first year after graduating because I chose instead to use my vacation time to visit family, or travel during the holidays when school wasn’t in session. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go, but I don’t live in NYC and the trip was just a little out of the way. Plus I was busy trying to be an adult and I thought distancing myself from college would help. I’m not sure it has. I still haven’t been able to shake habits from college, like consuming any free food I come across. Especially when that free food is something I would eat even if it wasn’t free. The issue is that I work with a bunch of adults who make food and then decide to leave it in the break-room at 9am and I feel ridiculously compelled to take the food, even when it’s heavily frosted cupcakes or candy. Look, if you didn’t want me eating desserts for breakfast, you should have baked muffins instead, because you know I will eat whatever you put out there when I see it. I just will.

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It has come to my attention that now that I have friends and activities and don’t spend a lot of alone time in my apartment anymore, I’ve gotten a lot worse at writing here. But aren’t updates that encompass six months more exciting anyway? They sure are!

So, yeah, Madison. Second winter here has been a little more like what I was warned about when I first moved here, which is good because last year I felt pretty gypped. I also did the holiday season better this year. I bought a tree and decorated it and everything. And not only that, but I got a strapping young man to not only carry it into my apartment for me, but to also throw it off my balcony at the end of the season. He’s pretty great. And I am now fairly certain that is the only proper way to dispose of a tree at the end of the season. It is also great practice for the pine tree hoist and toss, which I can only assume will be an Olympic sport in the near future.

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