Won't you come take my hand

Won't you come take my hand

So remember that time that you and your mom went to Newport, Rhode Island and explored a few huge mansions from a hundred years ago? Remember how hot it was that day, and remember how you wore your cute blue romper with your little white sweater? Remember how you have to wear your strapless bra when you wear that romper, the stupid little strapless bra with the rubber strips along the bottom? Well, remember how when you took the bra off later that night you had big red lines all along your back where the rubber was? Lucky you - those lines, they've now turned to scabs.

On nights like this all I want to do is curl up with a book and not wear contacts and pretend that Seth Cohen is real and that he's mine. During the summer I always fantasize about becoming a published author and being able to make a living writing and watching "The OC" and forcibly removing Nickelback from the face of the planet. I want an everlasting summer - but don't we all? It's so full of potential and hope and that new-book smell.