yahtzee

Yesterday my parents and I went on an impromptu camping trip to Jamaica State Park, VT, aka the no service capital of the Northeast. Not a single hint of a signal for miles. I'm all about not using my phone–in theory–but when it comes down to it, I go into full panic mode when I can't communicate with Dane for 18 hours. I kept distracted by biking five miles, hiking two miles, experiencing severe dehydration, swimming in the coldest river ever, and eating too many Twizzlers. I also almost ran over a snake with my bike, and on four separate occasions I found a daddy long legs crawling up my sweatshirt. What the fuck is with daddy long legs? They need to not.

The perfect outdoors look: hiking sneakers and a fanny pack.

I so badly wanted to sit in this ridiculously clear water.

On a different note, Dane let me know this afternoon that he got work off for the time I'm in NYC next week. Since things with us have been, uh, iffy, I was so overwhelmed with joy I couldn't really decide how to react. I'd been preparing myself for a very lonely and sad NYC trip without Dane, but I think it will turn out much better than expected. I got his text after I'd been browsing through our shared Photobucket account and (kind of) crying...

fam

This past weekend I partook in my paternal family's annual reunion in Cape Cod, Mass. I try to get out of going any year I can, which is so ridiculous of me. I don't know why I dread a free summer vacation to the ocean, surrounded by family. I love my family, I really do, but I don't enjoy small talk with family members I only see here and there, or being in large groups of people. Family or not, large groups are not my cup of tea; they make me incredibly anxious and closed off. Add in the stress of job hunting and a boyfriend on the verge of possibly not being my boyfriend, and it's a burdensome weekend to say the least. I'm not helpfully distracted by other people–only specific best friends I know can cheer me up–and I would rather just figure my brain out in sorrowful solitude.

Here are some pretty Cape Cod photos from my morning bike rides with my father.

Woods Hole at about 7 am, so quiet and peaceful.

Oh my godddddd I love whales.

Father eating a sandwich.

boo bear

My family dog had to be put down on Sunday morning, and it was so devastating. Boo was a rescue dog, coming to us just shy of 6 years ago. He was so jumpy. He didn't trust anyone right away and you couldn't come up from behind him. After being with us a few years he realized what a trustworthy family we were, and he really relaxed. Some things didn't change. He still dumped his food all over the floor and didn't eat it all at once, since he clearly had been in a yard with other dogs figuring out ways in which to eat, and if I hadn't been home in a while, he was nervous around me until he figured out who I was. Boo was the sweetest dog, and although he would bark at strangers, he meant them no harm at all. Just look at those eyes! I really terrorized him with endless iPhone photos and by squeezing his neck with so many hugs, but HE LOVED ME. It's terrible to know I missed saying goodbye to him by just a few weeks.