"Girl, put your records on, tell me your favorite song. You go ahead, let your hair down. Sapphire and faded jeans, I hope you get your dreams, just go ahead, let your hair down. You're gonna find yourself somewhere, somehow." ~corinne bailey rae

I love summer. Teachers are so lucky to have the summer off; I keep having to remind myself that people with normal jobs are still working. I'm not completely free because I'm taking classes, but I definitely have more time than most people to do what I want. I've seen a lot of movies lately (five movies in five days). My apartment isn't air conditioned, so it's nice to sit inside a theater and cool off. The last three screenings I went to were Stepbrothers (not fabulous, but still funny, and Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly were at the screening and were very funny introducing the movie), Brideshead Revisited (very, very good; Emma Thompson and Matthew Goode particularly shone), and American Teen (a surprisingly touching documentary).

My acting class is going well, although I still don't feel like I'm cut out for acting. It's nerve-wracking, especially when you have to improvise. I'm much more comfortable memorizing lines and then getting onstage (even though that still makes me nervous). I can see why acting is a draw for some people, though. In my first class this summer, while my group was performing a scene, I made people in the audience (my classmates) laugh. I particularly remember one guy's laugh; it sounded so deep and sincere and spontaneous, and it thrilled me that I could make someone laugh like that. That was a great feeling. So I get it. It's just not easy for me. But I'm trying. If I were an undergrad taking this course, I think I would be much more nervous.

Both of my grandfathers have been in the hospital for months (this has been an awful year for both of them), but they both seem to be doing better now, which relieves me a little bit (although I'm still worried about both of them). My Grandad recently had his leg amputated, and he just got moved to a rehab center. His roommate is a young African American man who is recovering from a gang-related shooting. Everyone who knows my Grandad finds that pairing the most hilarious thing ever. My mom couldn't stop laughing as she tried to tell me. It has the potential for comedy gold. It's a sitcom in the making. I love my Grandad to death (he's honestly one of my favorite people in the world, and quite possibly the funniest person I've ever met), but he has his faults. He's very critical and outspoken; he'll say what he's thinking and is not afraid of insulting anyone. He's also racist. He's an old, stubborn, Southern white man who is set in his ways. It sounds like he's dealing with his new roommate pretty well, though. So maybe this will help change his mindset. But I'd love to be a fly on their wall.