summer

Summer brings about some strange things. For example, the compulsion to create things like this, which might be the most disgusting thing I've ever seen.

We all know that frappaccinos and their friends are bad times for health but good times for summer drinking. As an alternative, I like to get an iced Americano, pour off (or drink) some, and then top it up with whole milk and some of the vanilla stuff that Starbucks has on hand in salt shakers. It's not quite a frappaccino, but it's a cold and tasty drink that hits the spot on a hot day.

There are many things I love about summer. Being hot. Really, the sheer sensation of heat, feeling the waves of it come from car exhaust, radiating off the sidewalks, the crispy feeling my skin takes on sitting out in the sun, sweaty car (that sauna feeling when your car's been sitting in the sun and you have to get in it)... sweaty car relief (when you get in and roll down the windows and crank the A/C even though it's inefficient), just being hot. And I love beaches, and being outside, and swimming, and flowers. Barbecued meat. Popsicles. Sundresses. Certain brands of sunscreen. Wedge sandals. Long days and evenings that go on forever. Cottages. My island. Fish. The smell of mosquito fog.

I would like to submit one complaint about summer. Where were the smokers hibernating? They all come out in droves at the first sign of warm weather. Something about a heady breath of tobacco as I walk past a smoker makes me crave those carefree days when I knew that smoking was some form of slow suicide but chose not to care. Tobacco smells of freedom and death, and it's delicious. I have no desire to smoke again, but those early-summer breathfuls of nicotine wear on my resolve.