Spring is Icumin

The weather the past few days has been unbearably wonderful.  I'm one of those people who worships the Winter, and I get really upset when the weather warms up and the sun comes out for Spring.  But, every year, I realize I'm a crackhead and Spring is actually really wonderful.  I mean, the sun's been out, the grass is green, there's a steady breeze that ripples said grass, and people seem on the whole a lot cheerier.  Maybe that's just because school's almost out...  

But one thing about Spring that frightens me is the crazy crackheads who emerge from their winter domains to enjoy the sunlight like everyone else.  You know?  The people with severe social disorders, crazy cat ladies with no bras and mumble as they walk... those people.  They're EVERYWHERE.  I mean, they scare the crap out of me, but they also make me miss Mark and our Saturday morning dates to WalMart to see the crazies.

Last night the weather was too perfect.  It was about to rain, so there was a breeze and the grass was dark green.  I drove to a friend's house for game/wine night with the car windows down, and Bloomington NPR was playing 1940s piano jazz ballads with commentary from two old jazz crooners (probably an old couple reminiscing).  They reminded me of the parents from Hannah and Her Sisters.  And even though I'm claiming to the rooftops that I'm no longer a romantic, this really got to me.  So today I broke out my Woody Allen "Classics" cd and I'm listening to "You Made Me Love You" with Harry James and His Orchestra.  I'm a sucker for this shit.

Maybe this calls for an evening of dim sum and Annie Hall?