By Corinne Flax

August 25th, 2005

Bye Bye Summer

Is it really the tail end of summer? It's almost time to pack away my sun screen and wide brimmed hat, my flip-flops and capri pants, my light weight tang tops and bug-spray. Last night I was shivering as we walked to the bar. With summer's end comes the quickening of steps, decisions become more serious and talk turns away from vacation plans and towards serious things, like mortgages and fiscal policies of third world proto-democracies.

I know that summer is really ending because all the heron babies have grown up and learned how to fly. You can always tell where a heron has made its nest, even if you don't look up into the trees to see the pile of sticks they call home. Herons eat fish, and nothing but fish, so when they defecate it smells awful. They nest in trees all over my neighborhood and beneath each nest lies their calling card of fecal matter. All summer long I carefully walked around these leavings, wrinkling my nose at their distasteful odor. Suddenly the smell is gone and there are no new additions to the stains on the pavement: all the babies have left the nest.

There are a multitude of other signs signaling falls imminent arrival. I will only name a few here but believe me I could go on and on. The marsh grasses have begun to get an orange gold look to them. There is a desperate note to the love songs of the crickets at night that makes me feel sad for them. All the stores are having back to school sales.

All good things have to end sometime, at least that's what they want you to think, and believe me this summer was all out great for me. I know a lot of people who didn't have fabulous summers. They spent to much time inside, or fighting with their significant others, or their cars broke down on their road trips. I feel pain for these people, summer should be as sweet as new corn, as soft as a ripe Georgia peach, as long as a king snake in the sun, and as slow as an elderly man driving a 1975 rag top convertible. Most importantly its memory should keep you warm even in the middle of January.

So now my mind turns to all the things that need to be done in Fall. Fall is a great season for getting your life together. It's that time of year when anything seems possible, when the nights are cold and clean filled with anticipation of winter. In the fall you make plans so that when winter comes you won't be left out in the cold with nowhere to go and no one to go with. I have to write at least four good essays for my college, fill out infinite reams of paper detailing my previous education, get those damn recommendation together, and find a presentable interview outfit. Flip-flops are not acceptable footwear for serious things, and sun screen is not the perfume I will be wearing. So for now I will pray for Indian summer, and a few more days down on the sand, before the days have grow to short for long lazy afternoons.

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August 24th, 2005

Nature's Wonders Exposed

My Mom could slice you and dice you!

My sister left for Tokyo today, and the room feels so empty. While she was here I felt claustrophobic, but happy to have her. Now that she is gone I feel like there's a big chunk missing from my life. Partially this is because I had to be at work at 445am this morning and I'm crazy tired, which leads to melancholy in a big way. That's only part of it though. While my sister was here it was like having a live in confidant, best friend, and therapist all rolled into one. Plus someone to fight with when I was grumpy, and she has cool shoes that fit me. Now she is gone and I am so sad.

In other news the Norwalk Harbor is filled with dead fish, literally there are scores of dead fish floating on the surface of the water. These fish are called Bunker, specifically the Mosse and Manhaden varieties. They are about 3/4 of a foot long, and have a slightly flattened face that makes them look dangerous, which they are not, especially when dead. I first noticed them over a week ago, and their numbers have been steadily growing. So what's up with all the dead fish?

The explanation is astonishingly simple, and was given to me by a commercial fisherman who happens to be my neighbor. Right now it is Bluefish season. Bluefish are big and mean and fast, and they are always hungry. My whole life I've been told that a Bluefish has teeth sharp enough to sheer off my big toe. The Bluefish chase the Bunker all over Long Island Sound, and eventually the Bunker will end up going into bays where the blues cannot follow them due to size. What the poor little Bunker do not know is that it is very hot out and the water has heated up. Hot water does not hold oxygen very well and with the large number of Bunker all trying to breathe at the same time the water quickly becomes depleted of oxygen and the Bunker asphyxiate.

This then is how the shore around Norwalk Harbor has become littered with shining silver fish. It's good to know things like this because otherwise I would have been totally convinced that the water was poisonous, and I swim in that water. I think its things like this that will make me a good teacher some day. By things like this I mean my pursuit of information and my natural curiosity, although perhaps all that qualifies me to be is a perpetual student. At Bank Street (the school I most desire to attend,) they believe teachers never stop learning and that their students are one of their biggest sources of information. That's one of the many reasons Bank Street is my top choice.

In other news, the GREs loom closer and closer, just six scant days away. I'm nervous, but I've been studying hard and will continue doing so. Tomorrow is clean your room day, which also means organize and pay your bills. Right now I'm so tired my eyes feel like they weight a million billion trillion kilos each. I'm so tired I'm using the metric system. I'm so tired my feet fell asleep and I'm happy for them.

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August 17th, 2005

These Three Things

Once upon a time I gave myself some really good advice, that I've been trying hard to follow, with varied success. The advice was this 'write your fears' and it pertained more to my endeavors in the realm of fiction then it did to this blog, which didn't exist at that point in time. Since this blog does exist now, and since I believe that the advice is still pertinent I am now going to try and explain what exactly I'm afraid of. *Nervous Cough* Please don't make fun of me.

I'm afraid that I will get into the school's I want, become a teacher, and be stuck. No more fun life, no more crazy days and split second choices. I will be fixed in a schedule with no escaping it. Instead of doing anything I'll just talk about it. Common phrases out of my mouth will be 'next summer when I've got time,' and 'when I was in college,' I don't want to live a life that is made up of reminiscing about my illustrious past or false promises of time in my empty future. In other words I am afraid of being somewhat successful and the complacency it could bring.

While success is scary there are other things that are even worse. I am a fairly well informed and educated person, but I'm terrible with names and dates, often make weird slips in my speech, and have truly horrible grammar.

Side note; In respect to the grammar did anyone notice I was using 'to' for phrases like 'to much'? All on my own I figured that one out, and I'd have to say that I actually didn't know that too not only worked as 'as well' but in 'too much'. For sure I was using it wrong this whole time, and no one said anything. I don't know what's worse, having been doing something wrong consistently, or to have been called out on it. A friend brought it up to me just last night, and I told her I had literally, this week, figured out what I was doing. I still feel like an idiot, how can I want to be a writer and take pride in my writing and not know simple grammatical things?

There's nothing worse then wanting to make some erudite point and being tripped up by your tongue. You want to make some telling point and you confuse Mohammad Ali with Mahatma Gandhi. Suddenly you are no longer an erudite sophisticate, you are a bumbling fool, who no one wants to talk to anymore.

At any rate that is my fear, which boils down to being afraid of looking foolish, in front of my peers. Another way to say that would be that I am afraid of putting my foot in my mouth, and since I talk a lot I give myself ample opportunities to do that. Worse then making a faux pax in conversation is to make one in writing (to, too) or in life. I don't want to foolishly choose the wrong place to be or time to do something, and find out my error only when it is too late for me to do anything about it.

Failure is even easier to be afraid of then foolishness and success. Should I succeed and be unhappy at least I will have succeed, if I am foolish at least that implies that I have gotten somewhere where I can be foolish, but failure is like death. Failure means I get to go nowhere, do nothing, be no one. To fail is to not get into my colleges, not move out of my parent's home, not manage to write even one novelette, not do anything at all ever. If I fail I might as well be packed up in mothballs and put away in a closet, for all the good I will be doing myself or anyone else. It'll be a total case of do not pass go, do not collect $200, do not bother trying to by anything other then a Starbucks shill.

Alright, so there's my fears, or at least three of them. To sum it up, I am afraid of success, I am afraid of looking the fool, and I am afraid of failure. There are tons of other things that I'm afraid of, like rabid racoons, but I'll save that for another day.

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August 16th, 2005

Math Is Hard, I Like Home Ec

The other night a friend asked me "So you're going to do well on the GREs..right?" I replied "Well I've been studying and practicing, I think that I will do fairly well, but I'm not sure. This is the first time I've taken a test like this without being on Aderayl." I didn't add that this is also the first time I've taken a test like this without my parents being heavily involved with the preparation process. Needless to say this conversation is one that I've had with myself quite a bit, especially as the 30 th draws closer and closer.

Will I do well on this test? I really am not sure. On the one hand I've always done fairly well on standardized tests, on the other I get really frustrated by the wording on these things, and I get flustered fairly easily. When I lived in Massachusetts I tutored highschool students in the verbal section of the SAT, and I learned a whole lot about the different tricks test-makers use to trip you up. Some of the most important things to remember when taking these sorts of tests are; find out what exactly you are being asked, take your time, if you don't get something move on, go with your gut feeling.

One thing about me is that I have a major tendency to try and rush through things. This is a trend that is visible in just about all aspects of my life. I eat quickly, walk quickly, type quickly, read quickly, and yes I take tests quickly. When you're taking tests, especially standardized ones, rushing is just a bad idea. Much like that talking Barbie doll from the eighties (this is probably the only thing I have in common with a Barbie Doll,) I think math is hard, so I tend to get freaked out quickly when I can't figure out how to answer a math question.

I've been drilling for the last week and it is getting easier, but still I'm totally scared of the Math GRE. As far as the English section goes, well honestly I'm not all that worried, but that doesn't mean there isn't room for me to improve. In some ways these tests are just a starting point. If I want to go into teaching there are going to be plenty of others, for certification and god knows what else. Some names of tests I will probably end up having to take are TOEFL and LASTS. I don't even want to know what all that stands for.

In other news I'm going to Six Flags today, and I'm totally stoked for that. Roller coasters are a good thrill and a great place to be on a sunny August day. I'm going to be getting some pictures put up on this site, and hopefully I'll have a couple of good ones from the park. Part of me feels really guilty for going to Six Flags on my day off, I mean shouldn't I be staying home and studying? Aren't there practice tests I could be taking, things to write about, and a room that is very dirty? What I think is this, there's loops for me to loop-de-loop around and I can't miss that.

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