June 14, 2005 - 3:11 am
If there�s one thing I can say about summer, it is this: I find summertime to be truly intoxicating.
Of course, this statement is doubly true in the last two years, when various factors have led to increased drinkering in the summer months, but let�s put that aside for the time being and discuss the more poetic meaning behind my late night rambling�
Where winter is a long, cold period of pain and grumpiness, when I find myself doing nothing more than enduring, trying to be as unaffected as possible, and very unwilling to connect with the world around me in any meaningful way, summer is the time of year when I find myself wanting to spend the night outside, anywhere, laying my face in the grass and feeling the soft ground beneath me, instead of in my bed. The increased free time (especially now), wonderful weather, and availability of partners in crime provides me with fewer quagmires of stress and distraction, and many more opportunities to reflect on myself and the world around me.
Say what you will about Michigan weather, I maintain that if you are allowed to sit back and enjoy it, summer is the best time of the year. Sure, it gets hot, but if you�re willing to jump a fence to get to a pool, or soak yourself in the spray of some corporate sprinkler system (in spite of improper attire), you can cool yourself off at any time. The cold of winter and fall and even spring make me want to be farther from nature and the chill it provides, whereas being outside seems to be the only way to really make the most of the summer weather. Even unfriendly weather, like summer storms, are so majestic and awesome that I can�t help the need to be a part of it, to be as close to it as possible.
The end result of this love affair with warm weather, combined with increased freedom of time, is a series of nights like the last two, where I find myself doing things that are only useful because of the tranquility they promote, and the fine thinkering time that comes from them. This entry is, in a nutshell, a long-winded salute to the last two evenings.
Last night Kim and I were going to go swimming after she got off work, but when we did leave it was pouring out with random scatterings of lightning, so we decided that it was prolly to cold for a dip in the pool, and that we weren�t too hot on the possibility of being electrocuted while trespassing, so we opted for getting really awesome takeout from the Fleetwood and sharing it while sitting in my car. After we had finished devouring our sodium-infused fare, I opened my window to defog the windows and enjoy the rain that was still coming down (though at a much more reasonable pace). I leaned back in my seat and propped my legs up on the side mirror. The rain wasn�t really cold and felt somewhat good on my legs. Though I had to pull my shit back together to take Kim back to her car, I drove home wishing I�d been able to sit there all night. When this feeling refused to subside, I pulled into a spot in my parking lot, turned my lights off and my radio down, and resumed the position, letting thoughts sift through my brain as water collected on my ankles and ran up my legs and Luscious Jackson soothed me to sleep from the depths of my car stereo. I woke up when the sun came up, decided to come in before my neighbors called the cops on the weird girl running the stakeout outside of their window.
Though rain and I have a�well�a history�I can�t quite credit the incredible feeling of rightness that followed me around this morning to sitting and soaking in that particular piece of the water cycle last night. Today, though still damp from last night, was rain-free. Still, it wasn�t quite hot enough for swimming, either. Instead, I suggested we pick up a few pints of Ben & Jerry�s and head to Green Hills to sit and stare at the stars while gorging on dairy products. Ultimately, I think the appeal of such a place is the fact that it�s right near everything and everyone, but it�s private. You can lay on a well-maintained sidewalk or tract of grass without having to worry about anyone coming by to bother you (given you don�t do anything to attract the attention of security). It�s that need to be in the middle of things while still remaining separate. It�s more private than a bench in the diag, but it allows you just as much observation time. Afterwards, Kim and I dropped off Jeff. On the way back, the aforementioned partner in crime suggested we take the long way back�you know, because we share a brain and all (what?). For the next two hours or so we drove around Saline, Ypsi, etc., singing along to good albums at the top of our lungs while I propped my legs up on the dash and the moon roof blew wind through our hair. I probably could have spent my entire night that way. But alas, all good things must come to an end. Still, it was very difficult to come inside instead of hopping right back in my car and heading north, even if just for a few hours.
I mean, sleep is for the weak, right? Or maybe it�s just not my bedtime yet.
