Summer is here.

We hit the 100 degree mark today in full fledged New England summer fashion. It was sticky and hazy and salty and delicious. Even though they closed the doors to us at the Cambridge public pool, Matt, Jon and I were by no means deterred. We rode back to the Cambridgeport area to overtake the kiddie sprinklers at the Magazine Street park. I felt like a kid , splashing in the puddles and squeeling as the water stream switched directions and hit me unexpectedly in the face.
After a stupendously long work day, (I'm not cut out for stupendously long work days) I came home 14 hours later to meet up with my newest friend, a sweet hot dog mix who happens to be of Polish origin. ( a kilbasi?). While the owner left me with commands, "Hutch To!" and "Shod!" he declined to leave any positive reassuring terms, like 'good boy' or 'you are the sweetest damn hot dog I have ever seen'. So if anyone knows any Polish translations please let me know; Mentos' ego will be soothed and we both will be relieved.

Dazed

I think I got too much sun today. I've been in a daze most of the day. Too little water and too much outdoor reading, walking, singing...
I mosied over to Inman Square tonight to hear the "Alash: The Award Winning Throat Singers of Tuva" at the Lilypad in Cambridge. The place was packed, with a hoard of people standing outside the door, hoping for a peak at the upper mouth song utterances. I scored a spot on the back window, standing on a desk, and so able to see the entire cast of four young players. After 45 minutes though, I became sure that I would likely faint from heat and dizziness and cause quite the display in the rear windows so quietly snuck out to the summery heat breeze.
It was a good introduction to the art of throat singing. I have been trying to mimic ever since to no avail.
It was also a good night for a walk and pizza and beers at Shays with someone who I love dearly and who for some strange reason loves me back.
And my first experience riding home on my bike in the city, a happy, if confused ride home.
I will remain true to the path that I feel is right. There is a sadness in the night. Sadness tinged with truth is easier than sadness tinged with false hope though.

The gifts...

I've been so lucky to enjoy this absolutely amazing season so far. My days off seem to fall into the "perfect days of summer category". I have so few complaints of the last month and a half, which is a pleasant alternative to my constant whining to the endlessly long winter. Until about May 1st, it truely seemed as though it was a dreary shade of gray since the day I arrived back to the east coast of the USA last August. Of course, this is not the case. I have distant yet happy memories of last August, wandering around joblessly and happy to the various city parks, stopping at lemonade stands and chatting with crazies.
Boston is summer. Somehow the vitamin D overload, after so many months of malnourishment, causes delirious Bostonians to lose control, sign leases, and declare their love for a city that loves them back a mere two months of the year. It is amazing to witness and frightening for the wandering souls. Boston is a unique home. We have culture and poverty. We have class, education and the best-worst accent in the country. We have a woman who says "I've been drunk since thursday so don't mess with me!" and Harvard freshmen who can't stop talking about their golden shoes. We have world class food and wit, sarcasm and intolerance for the intolerant. Boston is a city. A home, to so many. It will lure you back, home, again and again. And with these too short summer days we are falling in love again. With a city that for so many months acts like an angry teen, hiding her beauty away for no good reason other than selfish pride.
I spent an amazingly lucky New England day reading under green rustling leaves, driving to Newburyport and watching the sun set along the Atlantic, and hoping that this time I won't forget the moment when it fell beneath the clouds.

Crushes

I have a ridiculously big, completely absurd school girl crush.

Ice Cream

I am not sure why I am waiting for the summer's first cone but I know that when it happens it will be perfect.

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My favorite customer of the day was the giggling, gleeful 4 month old Declan with his sparrow egg eyes and lashes that reached his sparse hair line.

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My favorite story of the day was one in which an aqaintance landed in Rio and was amazed to see the captain and crew begin to dance at touchdown. "This is Brazil" he says.

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Scott, from Door to Door Dental needs athletic women for their softball team, playing in Cleveland Circle every Wednesday or Friday. Their team, sponsored by Roggies bar, offers free pitchers post game. Talk to me if you are interested.

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I miss the dogs.

Erioch:

Things I love today

A very ripe yellow cherry tomato that burst in my face as I bit into it.
The strawberries I bought at the Central Square farmer's market.
The people I shared them with.
The way the Akitas (Erioch and Kita) look at me as if I have kibble for brains when I attempt to get them to play with a ball.
The perfect perfect weather.
The wind in my face and flip in my belly as I drove a jeep around a narrow turn.

Booked!

It has been far too long since I've had this feeling, but perhaps the longer the time between the better the high. Like chocolate or your favorite summer beer. It tastes better the less you consume... although I admit I am more the kind of person who would eat chocolate and beer every day if I could.
So I am returning to the rich coasts of Costa Rica in just a few short weeks! Visiting my ambitious friend Mike in Playa del Coco and then heading to Grenada and Lago Cocibalco in Nicaragua. I only have 9 days to explore but last I counted 9 is more than 0. Thinking about going somewhere is fun, but actually booking a ticket and waiting for your confirmation email to arrive is much more of a rush.
My sister mentioned that she had recently been forced to calculate the number of weekends left in her life and the number was soberingly low. This is echoing in my mind as I try to formulate a plan for the next few months. I can't handle a 10 year plan, as I have been challenged to think about. I'm starting small. A six month plan gives me only slight anxiety and I only wake up once or twice a night with a new idea.

Meanwhile I am enjoying the company of two fabulous Akitas and some precious alone time in Cambridgeport. It is a beautiful summer father's day. I am going to try to track down my parents or sister, none of whom are answering my phone calls.

Pura Vida!

Why not?

Maybe it will help with my sanity if I am able to complain about the assholes who I serve coffee to with a smile. I have hit the perilous 9 month mark at a job, and have realized that this is the inevitable breaking point. I have seriously serviced kindly, too many customers and need a sacred blogger space to share my mundane observations, annoyances and excitements with the other anonymous internet junkies.
That and I miss writing and am finding myself friendless and bored on a friday night. So. Why not?