Dream a Little Dream

I was backing up all of my old files on my portable hard drive and came across this snippet for a paper I wrote my sophomore year in college about my “Utopia.” My ideals haven’t changed in five years and I’m willing to bet they’ll be the same in another thirty:

       

“I dream of a sweet, sultry place not unlike that of Clanton, Mississippi. My perfect world would be a place where the magnolias are always in bloom. The courthouse would be in the middle of the town where, as John Grisham puts it, “the square [would be] long and wide and the courthouse lawn [would be] covered with massive oak trees, all lined neatly and spaced equally apart.” Days would go by where the only relief from the thick air would be spent in a hammock by the river, with the breeze blowing on my face. I would pass the time speeding along a wide open road, enjoying the beautiful scenery from the driver’s seat of a convertible with the voices of Three Doors Down and Elvis crooning in the background. Homes would be lovely Victorian fixer-uppers, with plenty of time to restore them to the wonderful glory from years gone by.” –Sarah Mastrario (my maiden name!) November 15, 2005

I think I’m getting pretty close!