So spring has sprung into fake summer and now we turn back again into our typical April self. 85 degrees last weekend, up to 90 on Tuesday and now I'm back to a turtleneck and lite jacket - I prefer a day like today. Not sweating, not shivering. Almost perfect, but not quite - you know that Shel Silverstein poem? The little girl was never satisfied her whole life and said that over and over and when she died and went to Heaven, a voice could be heard "almost perfect but not quite". I do enjoy going to sleep with the window open and then waking up to a chilly breeze blowing my curtains - the air feels fresh and it's such a peaceful way to announce "hullo, it's morning so rise and shine, sleepyhead..."

Where does the time go? I feel like it was just January and now half the year is gone. It's all going by too fast for me - I think that's part of the funk that I'm in lately - is this something that happens to you as you get older? Gather ye rosebuds while ye may type of thing? Carpe Diem, I know. I've always tried to remember that, each day, but it isn't always my strong suit - I get stuck in my head a lot, dwelling on it all or trying to figure it out (whatever the "it" of the day is). Still I try and that whole trying bit counts for something.

To fully appreciate the Springiness of Springtime, I bought some artichokes and asparagus last night. Artichokes make me think of two things: first, a joke my parents used to tell that no one can remember - "Artie chokes 3 for a dollar at Safeway!" was the punchline. Secondly, it makes me think of eating these as a kid and how it was exciting, a treat, a whole big production because it's messy, you need bowls for the butter and bowls for the discarded leaves, it takes a long time to eat (i.e. SAVOR) leaf by leaf and then you get to the heart of it and I would refuse to eat that part because it was called the heart and I just thought that was awful, how could you eat someones or somethings heart? So I'd give it to my dad and he'd devour it with glee and I'd think "Daddy, how could you"?

What a sucker I was, yes, in those days I gladly gave him my artichoke heart to eat, thinking it disgusting. He never said a word to convince me otherwise. Years have passed and at some point, I did indeed eat my own heart and discovered why he kept silent. The heart is the BEST part, the most yummy.

So I say again, Daddy, how could you? For shame, not sharing the wisdom of the deliciousness of the artichoke heart with me!

I think I'm just in need of some fun, some time off from my life for awhile - my boss pointed out the other day (when I was sort of scattered and airheady and giggly for no reason and I think he thought that I'd lost my marbles a little) that I haven't had a day off since I came back from Xmas in January and that's what's troubling me - I'm worn out,people! So My Texan Adventure next week seems like medicine - I'm really looking forward to it - I get Prime Veronica Little Buddy Time, I get to see a completely different country - um, because you know Texas is another world. At least that's what their tourism board commercials spout. And we get to have a bit of a road trip to San Antonio for Cindy's wedding and then back again.

Let me just tell you a side note about how I got to be friends with Cindy (and through her, Veronica, but not til a few years later when we were both "returning" students). She and I bonded over our anti-social behavior. It was our orientation week our First Year at Barnard - at Barnard, they call it First Year, not FreshMAN year. Of course. And every day and/or night had a theme and one night was Club Night where everyone at Barnard and Columbia went to the Palladium. So NOT my scene. Can you see me there circa 1992 with my Morrissey tshirt and Doc Martens, with cheesy 90's dance music like C & C Music Factory blasting? Marky Mark & The Funky Bunch? It wasn't going to happen. So I had only met a few people at this point, one of which was Cindy's roommate. She knew I wasn't going and told me that her roommate wasn't into it either and maybe we should hang out since it seemed like we were the only two First Years not attending Club Nite. So Cindy and I were introduced and thus a beautiful friendship was born and I do believe we spent the whole night sitting in my window - which overlooked the subway on 116th and Broadway, watching people come and go, probably making fun of them, or making up stories about them at least.

Good times, good times (say it like the NPR ladies)...and next week will just bring more of the same, more memories and stories, I'm sure.

Boy, this post was wordy - this is what happens when I keep it all inside and don't BLURT it out here more often.

Note to self, must BLURT more often...