and for the first time in your life you know your life is about to start
The weather has finally taken a turn for the genuinely cold here in Boston (it got down to freezing or below last night), and this time the cold weather seems like it might actually stick around, more or less. This, coupled with the fact that Samhain is only two nights away, means that its probably about time for my annual post commemorating the fact that I am a Spring/Summer person and do not like Autumn/Winter. Let's just take it as read that everything I said in that post two years ago still applies, alright?
Time and time again people make the point that Winter is a time to batten down the hatches, to curl up with a special someone under a blanket and wait out the cold. The joke is that girls rarely dump their boyfriends in November; they hang onto them at least through Valentine's Day. And then, when the snow thaws and the sun really starts to shine again -- sometime around the 1st of May, let's say, because Winter lasts forever in the northeast -- they ditch them, if they're going to, and everyone goes back on the prowl. Spring is the time for meeting someone, the logic goes. Fall is the time for having someone already, and for negotiating your relationship to a point of relative stability so it will last the long months ahead.
As usual, I am here to say: fuck that noise. I have had a few major upheavals in my life as of late. And for the first time in I can't say how long I feel good about things. I feel good about myself. And I don't want to lose all of that to the gradual leeching of the cold air and the grey lack of sunlight and my continued failure to meet the right girl. There were a few days last week where I was coming home from work dancing in my shoes, having stayed later than I typically would for some hourly crap temp job. And it wasn't just the good music in my earphones and the fact the Red Sox were sweeping the series -- although that certainly helped. I felt good, and I can't bear the thought that something completely outside my control (like, say, the planet's axial tilt) is going to be able to take that away from me.
Time and time again people make the point that Winter is a time to batten down the hatches, to curl up with a special someone under a blanket and wait out the cold. The joke is that girls rarely dump their boyfriends in November; they hang onto them at least through Valentine's Day. And then, when the snow thaws and the sun really starts to shine again -- sometime around the 1st of May, let's say, because Winter lasts forever in the northeast -- they ditch them, if they're going to, and everyone goes back on the prowl. Spring is the time for meeting someone, the logic goes. Fall is the time for having someone already, and for negotiating your relationship to a point of relative stability so it will last the long months ahead.
As usual, I am here to say: fuck that noise. I have had a few major upheavals in my life as of late. And for the first time in I can't say how long I feel good about things. I feel good about myself. And I don't want to lose all of that to the gradual leeching of the cold air and the grey lack of sunlight and my continued failure to meet the right girl. There were a few days last week where I was coming home from work dancing in my shoes, having stayed later than I typically would for some hourly crap temp job. And it wasn't just the good music in my earphones and the fact the Red Sox were sweeping the series -- although that certainly helped. I felt good, and I can't bear the thought that something completely outside my control (like, say, the planet's axial tilt) is going to be able to take that away from me.