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Almost August (and everything after)

Nostalgia and rain have the same smell, so the monsoon season in the desert alway feels personally cathartic — a little sad, a little relieving, a lot refreshing.

I’m an Arizona native, so it’s no wonder I am in love  with the rain.  It’s a serious relationship. When I can, I invite it to tea. I’d throw its party, snapping a picture of it blowing out its 4.54 billion candles. I’ve caught the flu for the rain. If I could, I’d send it roses just because. I haven’t used an umbrella in years, and it’s not just because I live in Phoenix.

A raindrop falls from the sky and it’s in your hair. In your hand. On your neck. It seeps through your t-shirt and leaves a mark before being absorbed by the cotton, then your skin, then your blood, then your bones. It’s in your heart.

And then? Evaporation.

The most harrowing thing you’ll ever do. You have to let it go. And you’d think, living in Arizona, that evaporation would proceed quickly amongst the scalding temperatures. But of course that’s not the case. Oh no, your personal humidity and just how very stagnant the air around you has become makes the process slow down to the point of ludicrous visibility. In other words, you can feel the rain leave you. You can see it float away. Life’s logic is rather unreasonable at times.

Just keep the faith. It’ll rain harder. It’ll rain better.

In the mean time, however, there’s no shame in taking my heart out back and shooting it.

Kidding, guys! Just seeing if you were paying attention. Sheesh. It’s just a keyboard and a little melodrama.

Can’t believe summer is coming to a close. Well, summer break, not the season, if we’re being specific. The past few weeks have been a hot, messy blur of so many happy memories.  Lots of swimming, G-rated movies, dinner after dark, wine before 5, watching Big Brother with my big sister, and everyone (EVERYONE) being pregnant. So, this is what it’s like to be 27. Sweet.

Other items on my mind include this poem:

Second Helpings
by John Brehm

I wear my heart on my sleeve,
or rather both sleeves, since
it’s usually broken.
Sometimes when I join my hands
to pray, the jagged edges
briefly touch,
like a plate that fell and cracked
apart from being asked
to hold too much.

…these links:

Sometimes Reddit, you do it for me. 

What exactly are Jay-Z’s problems? — I don’t know, but this cute old lady isn’t one of them. 

By Pitchfork, but for movies. 

A song in a restaurant. 

You are my wild. 

Kind of funny.

…and cereal.

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2 thoughts on “Almost August (and everything after)”

  1. mmm miss that Arizona rain. Monsoon is my favorite season and for the first time ever I’m missing it. Tell that sky to pour some dusty drops when I’m home for 4 short days huh?
    Also, watched Waking Ned Divine a few nights ago and thought of you the whole time. “I’ve been usin’ the fruity soaps Maggie!”
    miss you : )

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