this is why I shouldn't write entries at two in the morning.
It's officially August in my timezone (and has been four a couple of hours!) and that makes me happy in a way that is fairly irrational.
I'm not a July kind of girl. February or July. They suck, they suck, they SUCK. Something about them, to me, feels like they go on for ages.
February is the dead of winter. It's when Michigan is looking its worst - the snowfall has decreased to a once-every-other-week kind of thing and yet none of it will go away. The roads are lined with this thick, brown ice-goo and the trees drip every once in a while. Nothing sparkles the way it did in December. Everything that looked so magical now looks pretty dead.
July is kind of like the summer equivalent to that, to me. June rocks. I'm living off the high that the beginning of summer brings and the temperatures that make me want to rebuild my relationship with the sun. (I'm fair-skinned. The sun is my enemy for most of the year.) Yeah, it's probably when our Michigan-famous construction is at an all-time high but, to me, that's summer. Closed roads.
But with July come the unbearable temperatures that make me remember why I love December so much. Mowing the lawn results in mini dust storms and an hour in the sun turns me into a lobster. (Literally! ;]) And you're supposed to be happy and on vacation and eating hot dogs. But what about the people that don't like meat or vacations or happiness? Huh? Where are they supposed to get joy?
July is like the Wednesday of the Bigger Picture. It's a way of saying "I'm halfway through with this week/season and I don't really know what to do with myself. Maybe I'll sit and twiddle my thumbs until it's over."
And, you know what, August brings me one step closer to September and, dear Lord, there's nothing I like better than the time from September 1 through December 31. (Although you can get rid of November, I wouldn't mind. And I'm thinking I MIGHT include August in there if it's good to me this year. This is a trial run.) I'm going to call that time period a season. And the season shall henceforth be known as "Awesome."
I think it is time for me to watch Stewart/Colbert and head off to bed. Yes, this is for the best.
I'm not a July kind of girl. February or July. They suck, they suck, they SUCK. Something about them, to me, feels like they go on for ages.
February is the dead of winter. It's when Michigan is looking its worst - the snowfall has decreased to a once-every-other-week kind of thing and yet none of it will go away. The roads are lined with this thick, brown ice-goo and the trees drip every once in a while. Nothing sparkles the way it did in December. Everything that looked so magical now looks pretty dead.
July is kind of like the summer equivalent to that, to me. June rocks. I'm living off the high that the beginning of summer brings and the temperatures that make me want to rebuild my relationship with the sun. (I'm fair-skinned. The sun is my enemy for most of the year.) Yeah, it's probably when our Michigan-famous construction is at an all-time high but, to me, that's summer. Closed roads.
But with July come the unbearable temperatures that make me remember why I love December so much. Mowing the lawn results in mini dust storms and an hour in the sun turns me into a lobster. (Literally! ;]) And you're supposed to be happy and on vacation and eating hot dogs. But what about the people that don't like meat or vacations or happiness? Huh? Where are they supposed to get joy?
July is like the Wednesday of the Bigger Picture. It's a way of saying "I'm halfway through with this week/season and I don't really know what to do with myself. Maybe I'll sit and twiddle my thumbs until it's over."
And, you know what, August brings me one step closer to September and, dear Lord, there's nothing I like better than the time from September 1 through December 31. (Although you can get rid of November, I wouldn't mind. And I'm thinking I MIGHT include August in there if it's good to me this year. This is a trial run.) I'm going to call that time period a season. And the season shall henceforth be known as "Awesome."
I think it is time for me to watch Stewart/Colbert and head off to bed. Yes, this is for the best.