On Fridays as of late I’ve been taking it pretty easy with my posts . . . and I see no reason to stop today. It’s hot . . . I’m hot . . . and sweating reduces my brain power by about 95.4%.
Yes, it’s supposed to top 90 degrees today, though whether my underarms will be subject to a hideous 91 or a hideouser 98, weather.com and the National Weather Service have yet to agree on. Looks like this web-based weather reporting is quite inconsistent. One might even call it . . . fair weather.
Hahaha–get it? Fair weather weather reporting? Sometimes I’m just too funny for my own self to handle.
Also, the word ‘weather’ is seriously starting to freak me out. Just type it twenty times and you’ll see exactly what I mean. Then we can freak out together.
Anyway, all this explains in some way why this morning I decided to just toss out some pictures of our afternoon at Blues Fest a couple weekends ago with some of our college friends.
There’s something about college friends–even though I graduated 7 years ago and only stay in touch with these guys sporadically, there’s a connection that remains strong. A sense of ease, of not having to prove anything. It’s chill, man. And this feeling extends to all of our college crowd: whether it was Kristina and Jen swinging through Chicago last summer, our friend Hayley dropping in for an evening visit during a stint with the CDC, hanging out with Tom, Ben, and Sarah, or playing in the snow with Julie and Zane, there’s this comfortable, hang-loose quality to our time with all of them that has the same wonderful flavor.
The last music festival I went to was Austin City Limits. I love music fests: the bared midriffs. The sweet smell of weed wafting across the crowd. That group of middle aged women, slightly drunk, celebrating a 50th birthday and dancing with their arms swaying above their heads. The smuggled bottles of wine and beer covertly removed from picnic baskets and bags. The general goodwill in the air. The feeling of just being, as the sun and the music take over your body and your brain floats away.
I also photographed my feet so that you can see how my pedicure was faring about 3 weeks after the fact.
We chatted with our friends . . . we ate bread and olives and scrumptious crackers courtesy of Sarah . . .
. . . and just reveled in being young. And alive.
I love the summer. Except for the 91-98 degrees part.
Have a great 4th of July weekend, all ye Americanos out there!