It's raining on my Saturday

Quite the appropriate weather for my last day in Rhode Island, no? I don't mean in a gloomy, metaphorical sense, signifying that my summer has come to an end and nostalgia is due to set in as I leave for Boston tomorrow. No, I just mean that the rain will keep my butt inside packing all day, instead of stealing a few last hours of sunshine in order to tan a tiny bit and try and convince people that I really did venture outdoors this summer.

So I should be packing, but of course I'm not. I do everything so last minute. I'd love to be able to justify it, give some proven explanation that I'm really ahead of the evolutionary curve or something, but I can't. I procrastinate and there's nothing else to it. Although, I will say that I feel I do my best work, writing-wise, when I'm under a time crunch. Unfortunately, this rule does not apply for packing. 

Regardless of my enthusiasm to box up my life, I could not be more excited to move back to the city. Call me a dork, but I'm even excited to start classes. I'm taking French, Newswriting & Reporting II, Introduction to Philosophy and Introduction to Cultural Anthropology. The journalism class is the only one that I'm really and truly looking forward to, but I just love taking classes so I'm looking forward to the whole schedule, even the required courses. 

I can't believe it's my junior year of college. I feel like it was yesterday that I moved into my freshman dorm room, ready to explode with jitters about making friends and spending time with my roommate. Both turned out well, I survived and even made a great friend in my roommate. We lived together for two years and are now only a few floors apart.

Here's Tori and I on Day 1, soon to find out that she cleans when she's stressed, and when I'm stressed, I just let the clothes on the floor pile up and the bed go unmade. We may not have been identical personalities, but we did, and still do, have fun.

I can't wait to see her and the rest of my friends. Three and a half months of summer is too long to go on text messages and phone calls alone. We'll start up our TV nights soon enough and all will be restored. I'm looking forward to Grey's Anatomy nights and getting back into the rest of my BU routine: going to the gym, walking to class, eating in the student union and getting "Good Mail" from my Papa and "Mediocre Mail" from my Dad (the latter lacks a certain green currency that the former provides).

If I sat here and listed everything I'm excited for, I would never pack and then, consequently, never leave. So I'm off to eat breakfast and fuel up for the rest of the day. Tea is in order. Yes, I'm definitely going to need some caffeine. 

Anniversaries galore

This video pretty much speaks for itself. My cousins are beyond adorable, wishing my grandparents a happy 50th anniversary, which we celebrated last weekend. 

Here's the cute couple in front of a vintage car.

Yes, both of my sets of grandparents were married in 1959, which has made for a fun summer, full of family get-togethers that rival those of major holidays. 

My dad's parents met in college and my mom's were married when my grandmother was just out of high school and about a month shy of her 19th birthday, my grandfather only slightly older. The fact that they were all so young, yet managed to stay together for 50 years, raising loving and successful families, is truly a testament to their strength and commitment. I'm proud to be both a Lane and a Kavanaugh and I wish them the best for the next 50 years.

IKEA, I love thee.

I don't own a home. I don't own an apartment. I don't lease, rent or even crash on the couch of one. I can't even manage to keep my bedroom organized at home. 

So why, out of all stores, do I have an infatuation with IKEA and all of its glorious Swedish home furnishings? 

Upon driving up 1 Ikea Way in Stoughton, Mass., the flags are visible beyond the horizon, standing at attention in front of the massive blue building. No, treasure chest. The flags mark the territory of the expansive treasure chest of trendy unassembled chairs, tables, desks and Swedish meatballs. Well, maybe the meatballs are assembled, but leave it to IKEA to create the first cook-it-yourself lunch.

Ok, so we've driven up, we've been in awe and now we're inside. The rooms upon rooms of assembled and organized faux family living make me giddy. I lounge in each space, imagining that this really is my living room, that those really are my family photos and that I really do own a $900 leather couch. Moreso than just wishing to purchase the contents of the room, I long to buy the actual home. Maybe the whole Swedish ownership thing is just a façade. Maybe IKEA is really a front for real estate agents everywhere to subconsciously lure innocent furniture shoppers into investing in their own properties. While I have no actual proof to back this up, I would bet an IKEA cinnamon bun (and anyone who has ever tasted one will know how serious a bet this is) that 9 times out of 10, shopping at IKEA results in closing on a home in less than a year.

So maybe I'd lose that bet and that cinnamon and icing laced bun from heaven, but I have five more and only spent $5 on the complete set of six. Because that's another one of IKEA's tricks; everything is ridiculously underpriced. Sure it's got some divas among its kitchens and bathrooms that require hefty price tags, but the rest of the furniture is extremely down to earth. It's got that "end table-next-door" appeal. The pieces are the Jennifer Anistons of the furniture world, except they don't whine about Brad Pitt or have to pose nude on the cover of GQ to get attention.

So with the low prices, it's easy to get carried away and furnish a home that may or may not actually exist at shopping time, which makes me wonder: What do the employees' homes look like? Whether there is an employee discount is irrelevant. Unless they specifically hire people with iron clad will power, you can bet there are some major shoppers among the cashiers and ottoman consultants. Their houses probably look like the catalogue, they're probably the official IKEA gift giver of their group of friends and they are probably loved more by their families than the average human who can't be the furniture fairy for their clan. 

So with a sigh, I wait. Until I have an apartment in which to install organizational shelving and decorate. Until I have a need for lamps of varying sizes and a drawer with a plexiglass top to showcase and organize my bracelets, necklaces and earrings. Until I really and truly have a need for a vase, a big white one with gorgeous flowers sticking out the top. They may even be fake flowers, because IKEA sells those, too. 

IKEA sells everything you'll ever need in life, including happiness, but as always, there's some assembly required. 

Remember a while back when I committed to writing more than one post a week? Well, you may have realized that the promise was sort of a wash. It's not that I don't want to, it's just that working three jobs while still trying to maintain some semblance of a social life does not exactly warrant much time for sleep and eating regularly, let alone supporting my new blogging habit in all its vanity. 

Unfortunately, my workout schedule has also fallen by the wayside. I've been running since middle school and absolutely love it. I was captain of the track team in high school, but I definitely wasn't the fastest, nor will I ever be. Running just makes the day better, makes me feel healthier and more energetic. So while it is definitely an important part of my lifestyle, I haven't made the time for it this summer and for that I'm a bit bummed to say the least.

It doesn't help my self-esteem that I recently interviewed a man who lost 194 pounds in one year and his trainer, who has lost 65 pounds herself. (Humor my shameless self-promotion and read part one of the two article project: http://www.valleybreeze.com/Free/MAIN-Jodi-Lamagna-personal-trainer--pics-from-bruce- ) They were so excited to talk about working out and the importance of exercise. I sat there, wondering if they were looking at me, knowing that occasionally carrying a 24-pack of Poland Springs water bottles in from the car is the only reason my biceps are as defined as they are...I kid, but no, really.

So since I don't see anything changing for the rest of August in terms of my schedule, as soon as I get back to Boston I will be starting a workout schedule in which I actually exercise. I am surrendering my excuse gene. My asthma is not that bad and I will be stocking up on yummy, yummy Albuterol just in case. My fall semester schedule can spare an hour a day for the gym. 

But to really commit to getting back in shape, I will be registering to run a 5k. I'm looking at one for November, which would give me 3 months from now to get into shape. The 3.2 miles won't be a problem, I would be able to get through it now even with Yodels and Double Stuf Oreos running through my veins. But I'd rather feel good about myself while doing it, rather than being reminded of my lack of effort. 

Who knows, maybe I can even recruit some of my friends to do it, too. Any takers?