Give Me a Lazy Summer or Give Me Death

It's time for somebody to check the cruise control on the axis of our planet. It's going a wee bit too fast for my liking, and I think I speak for many when I demand that we slow things down a bit. It's July 11 already, when, according to my calculations, it should only be June 22.

Where is the lazy summer I've been expecting?

I need more time to sit by the pool, estimating when I should reapply sunscreen.

I need more time to marvel at fireflies.

I need more time to narrow down my favorite ice cream flavors.

I need more time to watch boring, summer re-run TV.

I need more time to take self-portraits with my webcam.

Speaking of portraits, self and otherwise, Ryan and I ventured to the post office last week to apply for our passports. When it was my turn to have my photo taken, I zhuzhed my hair a bit with my fingers and sat down in the chair with a big smile. The no-nonsense postal worker, Leroy, told me to sit back in the chair further. Then he told me that I didn't need to smile and show teeth. In fact, he said, most people don't smile at all. He waited for me to drab it down a few notches and said, "There's no need to vogue."

Needless to say, Ryan was rolling his eyes so far into the back of his head that he sprained his cornea. He will never let me live this one down. I know this because he brings it up at least three times daily, and  then does an over-exaggerated impression of me, batty eyes and everything.

I'm sorry if I care about making a good impression internationally. I didn't know it was discouraged.