It's been over a month since I last blogged, so I decided I should fix that. But, really, not much has changed. It's still summer, I'm still not back at OSU.

I did decide that I want to change my major, though. Accounting isn't for me, as I'm so painfully realizing at my internship this summer. It's not only the number-crunching and the wading through red tape that's crushing my soul, it's the whole nine-to-five, dress-shirt-and-slacks thing that I just can't pull off. I have no idea what I want to do with my life, no idea what kind of classes I want to take—I'm probably even more lost than I was when I first came to OSU. But at least I've knocked one possibility off the list.

I visited campus about a week ago to meet up with a friend, and I realized how much I missed it. I walked down High Street—all the way downtown—and just took in the sights and sounds that I had grown so used to during my first year there. I didn't want to leave, and I most definitely got punished for attempting to do so: I got pulled over driving home—my first run-in with the cops ever. Okay, so now I'm just going to be dramatic, but I was freaking out. He didn't give me a ticket, probably because I was so visibly shaken and apologetic and borderline insane, so I'm very grateful. But, still, that's gotta be a sign, right? That I wasn't meant to leave? The point is, I miss my college.

Gymnastics is the most amazing thing ever to watch. If I could backflip, I'd probably just never stop. I'd be so full of myself. I like to imagine elaborate scenarios in which gymnastic abilities would allow me to avoid near-death experiences with...well, ninjas, I suppose. I guess I haven't given it much thought, but this isn't completely random—I'm watching gymnastics on the Olympics right now. I guess I should have mentioned that first. Now you probably think I'm weird. See? I really do have nothing good to write about.