Oh So Summer

It's summer. God, it's fuckin summer.

The sunlight came like a thunderclap a couple of days ago, jolting me out of bed. Most years I wait eagerly for the summer sun to come so I'm anticipating it each week, each day, but this year I was completely blindsided, enveloped in rosy gold before I even started to yearn for it. The sweat that's now perpetually on my brow is equally annoying and rejuvenating, like plum juice on my chin while I'm lying on my stomach, feet swaying up in the air, reading you a passage from the book I'm reading.

It's funny that I'm so pumped about it this year, since I now live in a place that has very little difference between spring and summer (and fall, for that matter). But I am; I couldn't be more excited about the semi-arbitrary freedom that a summer mindset lends, warm night bike rides, summer fruit, more tomfoolery than debauchery, and sun. I don't always like the warmth, but god, do I drink up the sun. I'm too pale to tan but I love to burn. I can't wait for the freckles, the farmer's tan, the tops of my feet red and stinging in the shower. I'm going to bike to Santa Monica every week until I see dolphins. I'm going to have a picnic in Griffith Park. I'm going to visit the Aquarium in Long Beach. I'm going to as many outdoor concerts as I possibly can. I'm going to drink white wine even though I usually prefer red. I'm going to go rollerskating and chew gum and drink rootbeer floats. I'm going to have flowers at the apartment, the only living things as fueled by the sun as I will be in the next three months. I will find a way to make it far enough away from the city to look at stars. I will stay up too late. I will ride too far by myself. I will actually go out of my apartment. I will meet people. I will ignore those people and lie on grass by myself anyway. I will ride my bike with no hands, no helmet, and no health insurance. This one is entirely my own.