Where has all the summer gone?

Ok, so there will probably be a series of lengthy (see warning in blog subtitle) updates since I haven't written anything here for months, mostly because I was too lazy to find the piece of paper where I had written down my Blogger user information. I've actually been writing out blog entries on good ol' paper to type in. I prefer to recline when writing, and I can't do that at a desktop computer. I miss having a laptop.

So, on to the show... Man-oh-man is time going by fast. It's been nearly 8 weeks since I moved back to PEI and it feels like almost nothing at all. It does seem like a ways back in some ways - the way it always seems a long time ago to me when there's been a significant change in my life (I can feel that effect after only a few days). But it also seems to have passed quickly in that I can hardly remember what all I did to pass the time. It's even getting cooler out. Summer's almost gone and it seems that it just started.

There's so many things that I had planned to do that I haven't gotten around to. Trips to make - I was hoping to get to Newfoundland this summer, but no go. Projects to finish, mostly of the crafting variety. Books to read.

I did get one trip done that I wanted to, and finally got up to the Cape Breton Highlands for a couple of days. I enjoyed that trip - I do like driving and camping any time, and the Highlands were neat. I'd like to do a cross-Canada trip like that someday. There's another plan for the list.

I also finally found the time to educate myself in an area that I was sorely lacking - world history. I found one of my Mom's old Prince of Wales textbooks kicking around and I read it through. It was really interesting to finally learn about all these names that I've heard mentioned before but never knew about. So now I'm up-to-date, at least until 1965 when the book was published.

What else did I actually do this summer? Uh... I started jogging pretty much every day, first 2 km but now I'm up to doing 2 km at a fair pace and then the return trip at a slower pace. The jogging plus fencing plus rollerblading plus home-cooked meals has allowed me to finally regain the rest of the 10-15 pounds that I lost back in Edmonton, so that I'm now up to 128 pounds. That's about 5 pounds of muscle alone that I put on in two months. I think it's all in my legs. I'm rather unbalanced... muscularly.

There's nothing else that I did that really stands out. Pretty much just vacationing stuff - puttering around, going here and there. And I also had my 25th birthday, so I am now halfway through my twenties and beginning to feel old. And the way that time keeps slipping by, leaving me with unimplemented plans isn't helping the situation - I feel like my life is going to run out before I have time to do everything that I want. Before I can do all the things that I've already decided that I'd like to do, I manage to think of dozens of other things to do as well, and I accomplish very few of them in the schedule I imagine. I keep telling myself that I'm only 25 years old, but that reminds me that I'm already somewhere between one-quarter to one-third of the way through my life if I live to old age. Is it natural to feel so old when I'm apparently still so young (as I've been told)? Am I just being paranoid to think that my elbow that is still twinging with a bit of pain weeks after I somehow hurt it is a sign that my body is beginning to disintegrate? I got mistaken for a student once again last week, so I must not look all that old.

On a lighter note, to combat that last paragraph: In the past year that I've owned a pick-up truck, I have discovered something about mankind - and when I say mankind, I mean men excluding women. Being a girl who drives a truck tends to draw attention and comments, and from those comments I have discerned the following: There are three types of men in the world. The first type of man, upon learning that I drive a truck, will comment something to the effect of "Cool truck" (because it is). The second type of man will ask "You drive a truck?" with a tone of curiousity, and he might add "Is it your truck?" (thinking it perhaps belongs to my father/brother/boyfriend/husband?), or he might state that it's unusual for girls to drive trucks. Then there's the third type of man, who asks "WHY DID YOU BUY A TRUCK?" with a tone of confusion and aggression that implies that my purchase of a truck was a personal attack against all that he stands for.

That's all for today; it'll at least get me started at getting in the habit of writing so that I will remember to do so once I get over to Scotland. T-minus 26 days.