R.E.M., "What's The Frequency, Kenneth?"

I had an epiphany yesterday, as I was floating on a raft in my uncle Heath's pool on the fourth of July (flipping over sides from my back to my front as a precaution against too-severe sunburn): I'm on vacation.

Yes, in less than a month I won't be working at the place I'm employed currently, so I decided to use some of my vacation time while I still had it. I plan on saying adios to my current workplace around the beginning of August, and I was originally going to use all my vacation time then, to tide me over financially until I started grad school and the assistantship, but I needed a break and I figured unless I went overboard with my spending, I'd be good financially until I got my first paycheck from the Uni.

I have since spent all my savings on a diamond tiara...

Just kidding, I'm looking forward to next week, if only because I'm not beholden to anything until the Monday after this next one. Oh brother, it's been a while since I could say that...I already have the duty of babysitting my adorable niece tomorrow while her parents get a much-needed afternoon out of the house. But beyond that, I'm free as a bird.

I imagine I'll be making shoebox-airplanes and bored to death with ESPN's continuing yeah-America-is-out-of-it-but-dammit-we-paid-for-the-rights World Cup coverage. For my peeps who genuinely love soccer, I have no quarrel with you. But the incessant bandwagon-jumping seems...well, bandwagon-jumping. I didn't drink the Kool-Aid on this one.

I've been listening to the most recent "best of" of R.E.M., which is a two-disc bad-boy picking up some of the best stuff from their early years as well as their post-Bill-Berry alright-ness. I'm in the camp that thinks R.E.M. were best in the Eighties and early Nineties (not that they should've stopped then, but everything post-1997 is murky waters for me, at least). I remember "What's the Frequency, Kenneth?" as being "the song about what that guy said to Dan Rather," as well as the video that introduced me to the Nudie suit (I was unaware of Gram Parsons or country music circa 1974's penchant for the Nudie suits at the time). Monster was heralded as the band's "rock" album, after the previous two were mildly acoustic affairs. And I so desperately want one of my friends to be named Kenneth, just so I can ask him what the frequency is. Anyway, on Thursday afternoon, after depositing my check from work, I blasted this as I drove around post-work-but-not-ready-to-go-home-yet (a condition I usually find myself in on Fridays).

Next week, I want to get all the paperwork that's still to be done regarding my assistantship out of the way. I also want to get a much-needed haircut. But most of all, I want to be able to relax. I already got that ball rolling at my uncle's pool party (and avoided a severe sunburn; there's a little redness on my shoulders, but otherwise I came out of it okay). Got a few books I can read (including one about the origins of the First World War, because I'm a history nerd), and basically if I can't relax anytime between now and the week after this next one, there's something wrong with me. But I'll do my damnedest.