relief, and a bowl of cherries
The heat wave has finally broken, and I feel like it's high time I break the silence on this page; a little celebratory post as it were. After many miserable days of hot, humid, and sweaty living, the rain came. And glorious it was. I've been such a miserable cunt this past week -- not dealing with the discomfort well, and cursing my resolve not to get an air-conditioner -- that if I were me, I would have moved out days ago (fortunately for me, my partner in crime has surprising reserves of patience in dealing with my madness).
First, there was the deluge. Yesterday afternoon, the sky broke open -- water ran in the streets like rivers -- steam rolled through the air, and thunder-lightning tore and maimed the sky over our heads. In anti-clima[c]tic fashion (however), the storm did nothing to dissipate the nasty heat wave. But today, it was bliss. Today it was different.
The day started with a blistering 40 degrees, running around downtown in jeans, soaking in sweat (fortunately, my wonderful neighbourly neighbourfriend downstairs is a talented seamstress, and she will be remedying my lack-of-summer-wardrobe crisis promptly). Then, a mad dash home from the grocery store under looming green and grey clouds and vicious winds. Finally, the cool rain came (as did a stripping off of all the sweaty day clothes and throwing on a sarong to stand under the downpour); and with it, relief tagged along. It's now 20 degrees, there is wine in my glass and cherries in my mouth and things are beautiful again. I've been thinking a lot on the idea of appreciation: things are appreciated so much more in their absence (you know, that whole 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' schtick -- things that seem mundane (unless you are a master at appreciating the day-to-day things) or everyday in your life, until they are gone -- like sex, or water, or coolness). Upon returning, they give us reason to celebrate and be thankful. Weather is particularly notorious for this phenomenon because when we have either extreme, we long for the extreme opposite.
Would we ever understand the concept of gratitude and appreciation if there was no such thing as absence? Why do we only long for things when they're gone? Why do we only ask ourselves important questions when things are bad (thanks Huckabees)? And if we do ask even when things are good, why are we considered just paranoid? Ah, rambles and digressions...
The summer is shaping up. The garden is growing, fruits are coming into season, and I've realized that life is chaotic (but I can deal with that) - surprisingly more so without the structure of school to dictate my days. I've also discovered new friends, new crafty projects, and a new love for the show Six Feet Under. I know, I know; it's been hyped up horribly -- but it really is terribly good -- much more so than I had expected, even with all the glowing reviews and 'highly recommendeds'.
So I look forward to travelling soon, perhaps meeting new friends, and finding old ones. So long, farewell, auf weidersehn, goodbye.