8.15.2001

dedicated to my first day of school (yesterday): i think i write like i do because of my dad. this is an email he sent me from work across the ocean:
hi girls, just a note to note I'm thinking of you. guess the school thing has
just about taken over the summer thing; and books, pencils, some person standing
and talking in front of a seated group of semi alert young people is much of the
order of the day. the days are getting imperceptively shorter and the cool of
the morning lasts just a bit longer before a squawk from a folded brass tube in
a band hall distroys the thought. the new smell and most of the new feel of new
clothes are in memory and alarm clocks have just now become such a pain. what I
or you did this summer is becoming less noteworthy, if those things really ever
were, and what I or you will do this afternoon together has become very
noteworthy. without logic, as if by magic-the dynamics and balance of
friendships and groups has shifted during the absence. someone is now more
interesting, someone else is now more of a stranger, someone is now a hunk and
someone else is looks like middle school. how did this happen, all that did
happen is that we took off for a couple of months. why is it different? oops
there's the bell, gotta go... love you both, dad