i have no deep thoughts today. nothing probing to say about politics, the state of freedom or reproductive health.

instead, i'd rather think about how much i love the summer.

tuesday night, i left the office early and dropped by the dominick's by navy pier to pick up some things for the, frankly, unsanctioned barbecue we were having at a friend's house while she and her boyfriend spent the holiday in cabo. we spent hours in a bacchic fog on her balcony, our bodies languid in the humid evening, but as the thunderstorm rolled in, stretching our legs and hands, thrilling to the lightning. not caring even we had to run through puddles to get back to the car. summer is for feeling the body get mucky.

i don't mind the long lines at the checkout, i don't care that the bus is crowded and slow. i like standing in the close air of the bus, stretching up to grasp the handrail and feeling the press of bodies against me while there's music in my ears and i can slip into a drowsy daze while the streets speed and lurch past my eyes.

anyway, summertime. if i had my wish i'd 'work' from home, take naps in the middle of the day, walk around in loose dresses and low slung white pants and forsake shoes. it's such a cliche - the sensory memory that plunges you back into a crystal clear image of a nostalgic past.

but that's what summertime does for me. things like walking across the river around 3.30, or sitting in the back garden at my local bar staring up at the trailing ivy, or sticking my feet into a square patch of sun in my apartment, or drowsing on my antique quilt in the middle of the afternoon.

they make me want to be a little girl in los angeles again.my sister and i would make a hammock on our front porch, climb in, and she'd chatter while i would read nancy drew or stare at the wooden beams overhead and pretend i was stowing away on a pirate ship hiding with the potatoes and crackers. (for some reason i thought that's what pirates ate: potatoes and crackers. or oranges.)

driving down lakeshore drive with my roommate yesterday and passing through the park, smelling all the charcoal. it was like the whole city was grilling. and this brings back the awesome (so over-used, that word) church picnics from back home. the scratchy blanket on the grass, some contemporary gospel on a boombox, and the smell of chlorine and sun mixed with tangy sunblock on sweaty skin, while recovering from thin white bread sandwiches filled with barbecued pulled pork, or baked beans, buttery corn, peach cobbler with real crust, or greens or really eggy potato salad.

missing the grit inside my red keds from running in the sand pit, the contrast of my nuttier dark tanned skin with my sister's tanned gold. the shadow play of my wild hair, big poofs of hair on the side of my head that only got bigger the more i ran around or played in the pool. (not that i could swim. but man i loved the shallow end.)

but there are advantages to a grown up summer that i never could have imagined when i was a kid. (am i the only one who's fascinated by how cool a kiss can feel even when it's 98 degrees outside?)

yes; things were fun back then, but summer's just fine now.
...
(was really looking forward to a date planned for tomorrow night and he has to travel for the next two weeks; he'll be back in the country when i'm about to go under the knife. am alarmed at how disappointed i am. like - REALLY disappointed. like - despondent disappointed. hm. that's a surprise.

NOW, what??)