It is a quiet day in Pasadena. The kind I relish in for I know that in a few short days the streets will be bustling with activity as we begin our new quarter. Though I have used half a box of tissues and my ears seem incapable of hearing clearly, the day is still very close to perfect. The weather is the kind of dreams, where the temperature is just right and the air smells fresh and perfect. It is the smell of the air and the light sweater temperature that brings back memories of all the great days like this in my past. It is the kind of day where one can curl up and read of a mysterious night circus and dueling magicians falling in love. The kind of day where hours can pass, hours of contentment wrapped in a big chair and an open window, and yet no time seems to pass at all. For in a few days I will be back to the busy hours of schoolwork, class, and being a nanny, but for now, for these hours, I will relinquish all stress and obligations. For these hours I will be engulfed in the blissfully pristine weather and I will lose myself in a novel. I will dive into a world of magicians and love and I will refuse to come out until I have to.