parenthetical.org (what a pretty life you have)

04.09.2001:perfect day

Today was perfect. Absotlutely, completely utterly perfect.

If you've ever read Dandelion Wine (Ray Bradbury, good book) it was one of those days, the kind of days you're supposed to bottle up and save for winter. Except you can't really do that, you can only sit out side with sunglasses and maybe a book to read -- but not one that you have to read, just one to keep you a bit entertained and pursoseful while you sit out and soak up all the sun and warmth and spring you can.

It's darker out now, though not totally dark thanks in part to daylight savings and my urban location which, even in the middle of the night, is never really dark from all the concern paid to making sure things are well-lit. But you can still sort of tell what sort of day it was.

I don't ever want to move to California or Florida or one of those warm-weathered places where the days like this pile up on top of each other in endless stretches. Maybe it's partly the New England blood in me, convinced from the time I was very small that while it's nice to visit other places, there really is no better place to be living. (Not that I'm actually living in New England right now, but same coast, maybe a few hundred miles away.)

Because I want to appreciate this. I think crappy snow and rain and smelly mud build character, and anyway, life just wouldn't be the same without that crisp smell that fall has, but more than that -- they give you contrasts.

Today is beautiful because the other days were not so beautiful. Tomorrow won't be as nice and yesterday wasn't really either. It gives that very nice day a sense of urgency, you must enjoy it now, before it's gone. You won't get another one like this later, or maybe you will -- but you can't count on it.

I wore a skirt, which I rarely do, and sat out on College Green for the one hour in the middle of the afternoon that I was free. Though tempted, I did not skip my Art History class (we watched the Godfather, a movie which I had never seen, which probably makes me un-American or something, I don't know, but I figured my culturally-deprived self really ought to watch it anyhow) and I pitied myself for spending such a beautiful afternoon in the basement of Meyerson Hall.

But that just made the afternoon more beautiful and wondrous and all those other happy adjectives that make you want to wear bright colors and put on sunglasses and smile at strangers.

I, of course, have a bad habit of breaking sunglasses -- pretty much every pair I own has at some point suffered a tragic, cracked, twisted or otherwise mutilated fate (except this one, rather hideous pair I bought as an emergency pair one particularly sunny afternoon while skiing -- why is it always the ugly ones that stay with you?) But I am holding out hope for my latest pair -- they've already survived a few weeks which is something of a feat for me. Alas, we shall see. (Hah, get it? ...Sorry)

This month -- already one-fourth over (what is it with me and measuring time in fractions?) I hope to really enjoy. I'm a little apprehensive about going home for the summer and dealing with all the well, boredom that awaits me there so for the next three weeks or so, I am set on enjoying myself to the fullest, even if the weather doesn't cooperate. Which it will, I say, with slightly forced optimistic assurance.

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Replies: 6

Wow Caroline. You are such an amazing writer. You can write about the most mundane thing and bring it to life. Your fasination with the weather is quite cute. Perhaps you should consider going into meterology if the writing thing doesn't work out. Which it will. You're quite ... "verbose."

Every so often I come here and check up on you [because you used to post on the board and that makes you special] and you always make me smile or inspire me to take a moment and enjoy the weather [or something]. And that's cool. It's good to know there are people like you out there.

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