Ah the dog days of summer are whizzing past like the speeding motorcycle in the Daniel Johnston song. I still do not have the car back, but the part has finally been sourced. I’ve been praying that it would be ready before the weekend of my 30th birthday so that the girl and I could throw the longboard on the racks and head out to Montauk for a day or so. But unless he calls really soon, as in today sometime, it looks like we’re Brooklyn-bound for the 22nd/23rd. Overall this is fine with me. I have a tradition of surfing on my birthday, so maybe a day ride out on the LIRR to Long Beach or Montauk, fish under arm, will have to suffice. Other than these surf related musings, how about this summer? Has any other summer gone by quite as fast? I do not believe so. Between reading Proust, researching fashion history stuff for Hazel Clark over at Parsons, planning the new print version of Canon (the interdisciplinary student-run journal for the New School), waiting tables, teaching the occasional surf lesson, and/or just paddling around myself, the days have passed like sand through a sieve. Fortunately there seems to be an interminable yet finite amount of sand still to sift. I am looking forward to fall, to my last year in the MA program, to wearing a jacket more often, and to figuring out how to execute the multitude of crazy plans that I’ve stirred up in my brain over the past few weeks. These include a possible PhD in Comparative Literature, a top secret fashion line, and a perhaps a minor return to competitive surfing……..we’ll see.