It’s a bit of a pain in the ass, sitting down here to blog after a trying day of existing. Even more difficult is keeping my attention on this stupid computer that I’ve been staring at all the dumb long day when there are park freaks to pretend not to stare at. That’s right, friends, I’m sitting on a blanket in the park. It’s official…I no longer hate nature. Somewhere a gong just sounded. It’s the end of a hate-filled era. All I want to do lately is ride my bike, go for walks, lie in the park, swim…HIKE. No, you did not misread…I said hike. I don’t recognize me either…but there you have it.
Somewhere a house or car nearby is playing Astrud Gilberto. Funny, I always drag that album out at the first sign of summer too. Harry Belefonte as well, but since the gloriously new and functional record player moved out…my LPs sound hollow. Maybe that’s why people stopped listening to them. Anyway, long playing records are not the subject here. Summer is. More specifically…summer and how it pertains to me. And my ability to wear sundresses. And pick strawberries. And drink them in margaritas. Yes. Try it.
This is a dangerous time of year. Normally I’d have to suppress the urge to punch the orange-clad hacky sacker to the left of me in the neck. I’d want to throw something at the hipster couple that just rode by with the fused together BMX bikes just to watch them fall. Well…I still kind of do. I’d want to inform the middle aged woman playing tennis that her time for that skirt is long since passed. I’d want to roll my eyes at the chick in the striped socks and Tour de France cap breaking out the hula hoops. Normally I’d want to do all these things. Today I don’t. Today I’m content to just look at them without expression in between typing these mild mannered sentences. It’s kind of a miracle.
There’s some Ray Bradbury story about a planet that rains every day all day except for one hour every 7 years. Something like that. All Summer in a Day, it was called. I know this because I just looked it up. We had to watch the movie version in Junior High. It made me incredibly sad. Not so much because one of the kids gets locked in a closet by bullies and misses it…but because that planet felt a little too much like my home. I’m genetically predisposed to reject sunlight. My Irish pastiness and fine blond(ish anymore) hair are designed to combat bronzing with scalding and I’ve got battle scars (in the form of unsightly moles and freckles) all over my body to prove it. I should be glad that the weather here prevents me from having to wear some asshole straw hat or scarf every day. But when the sun FINALLY comes out and the air FINALLY gets warm…it’s all I can do to keep from basking in it like a cat. Or one of those hippos you see beached at the zoo.
Oh god. Another chick with hula hoops just showed up…this one on a bike completely covered with faux fur. I think maybe she’s going to have to be taken out.
Close, wasn’t it.
19 hours ago