Sunday, 22 July 2001 | Cell

When I was younger, I can remember my friends saying that they'd never do certain things when they got older. Most of it was related to things they saw adults do that they didn't like or understand, or things that they thought were simply wrong. I can also remember never making those pledges myself. It's not like I necessarily planned to do the things they opposed; I just didn't want to make a claim that I would later revoke. Recently I've noticed that I still adhere to that policy. Though for the last few years I hadn't planned on getting a cell phone, I was always careful not to say that it was an impossibility. Anyway, I bought one on Friday. Of course I have reasons (car problems, long distance bills, petty social excuses), though I'm not sure why I feel I need to justify my purchase. I guess it's just a slight shift in self-definition that I have to get used to, and that no one else really notices. It doesn't look like I'll be using it all that much anyway, if this weekend is any indication. So far I've called one person, and no one's called me. (See? No one noticed.)

Yesterday felt like Summer, and felt like Saturday. I hiked in the woods, found a tick on my leg, held a crayfish, bought new flowers for the kitchen table, grilled out, watched a movie next to an open screen door, and stayed up half of the night. And today was a formula Sunday: be lazy, eat things that don't constitute a full meal, then do some cleaning. I haven't actually done the cleaning part yet.