Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Reverse Seasonal Affective Disorder: Summertime, and the Living is Easy?

So, spring is in the air ... which means that summer is coming.

Last summer, I freaked out about my annual SAD-SS (Seasonal Affective Disorder, Summer Style), and—truth be told—Summer 2005 turned out to kinda rock ... Noah's breakfasts of Queens-procured vegetables and Goya tortillas, being rockstars speeding across the island at night-time in Matty's Jeep, or in daytime climbing from the icebox of my room to the fire escape where we'd watch the neverending street fair and he'd blow cigarette smoke ruthlessly into the humid air, high as a kite at Tara and/or Lainy's while giggles pepper the fog of window fans and sweaty clubs, mocking queries over Yogurt Bowl with Cameron and Rachel in the dark kitchen, Natalie, the only girl in the world who'd take the 6 train to 116th street at 1 A.M. just to talk after working an 80-hour week——and, our two beautiful days in the Hamptons, when I was reminded of why people like the summertime after all.

I'm hoping this summer will also defy expectation. But just to recap, these are the viruses that cause SADSS to begin with:

1. Sweat. I do that a lot. Especially while waiting for the subway, which's really smelly in the summertime, and packed with uncomfortable necktied people & unfortunately near-naked people.

2. Sticky Things e.g., watermelons, popsicles, ice cream. Esp. when combined with eating outdoors, mosquitos, or parades/street fairs/barebeques/The Puerto Rican Day Parade.

3. Slut Patrol: I get really hot in the summertime. And I don't mean Paris Hilton hot, I mean like, Dante-hot. And so I wear short skirts. Sometimes, short shorts, like the girls in the Nair ads? And I think that's okay, guy-in-the-truck/disapproving friends. So shut the fuck up. Would you rather see my inner thighs sweat? Yeah you would, but NO YOU WOULDN'T!

4. Every Summer Brings me either one step closer to ugliness or one step closer to skin cancer. I tend to chose the latter.

5. Girls sometimes wear those silly flowy hippie skirts, and boys sometimes wear cargo shorts. Both of these things make me not want to have sex with anyone ever.

Reasons this summer may rock anyhow:

1. Living in Williamsburg with Lo-La
2. Wedding Crashers w/Haviland: July in Savannah, GA.
3. I Heart Pride, big-time.
4. New Orleans this weekend.
5. Hopefully London at some point.


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