When I was a kid, the sign that summer had arrived was obvious: school ended, classes were over, and duffel bags were packed for camp. Thinking back to those glorious days of my childhood, late June in Maine, I feel slightly nostalgic for a world of warm weather and relaxation that I can’t possibly be a part of now. Most of my adolescent summers were spent filtering through various camps of some kind: three weeks at a Christian camp in the woods, two more weeks a basketball camp in the Bowdoin College gym, one at an art camp where we learned to create giraffes out of felt. And so on.
Sometimes I wish there was a summer camp for adults and then I realize that that would take away the magic, the fun, and the innocence of the experience. Instead of unlimited juice and mac n’ cheese dinners, adults would require a daily Happy Hour, an internet connection in order to watch some TV shows and chicken liver pate. Or at least I would.
Since I can remember, I’ve saved my New Year’s Resolutions for summer. Right before the start of every season, I used to lay in bed and day dream about the magnificence that awaited me. This would be the summer I would impress John Mayer with my wit and charm. This would the summer I would learn to surf in the Maine Ocean. This would be the summer I would be discovered by a Broadway agent and sent to sing with the stars. Needless to say, I had high if not completely delusional expectations.
This summer, I plan to be a little less lofty in my dreams and drink a little more gin. Here’s what I have in mind:
a. Read more books, more often and talk about them. Reading my own autobiography “Why Can’t I Stop Eating Cake?” doesn’t count.
b. Get serious about interior design in my own home. No more pictures of French bulldog puppies on the wall. Cute is SO last season.
c. Take a dip in the ocean, the sea, a pool every week. And a pool of my own tears is out of the question.
d. Learn to make music with my hands. Hello Youtube household object musical tutorials (say that 10 times fast).
e. Explore the great outdoors, without complaining about how hungry I am/tired I am.
f. Host a dinner party that doesn’t end in shame (eating frosting from a can while crying about the fact that I can’t afford a design couch).
g. Eat healthy food like kale, vegetables, cheese, fondue, chocolate and ice cream.
h. Do something that scares me every week, like sleeping with all of the lights off in the apartment or drinking whisky or eating sashimi.
i. Learn a language, or learn more about flowers, or learn how to balance a checkbook.
So there you have it. Nothing crazy. Nothing out of reach. I’ll keep my “DREAMZ” list to myself, thank you very much.