hypocrisy

Everything about the weather today says: It's Friday, the weekend, go to the beach, take a hike, smell the flowers. Even I, in my pathetic non-week-vs.-weekend based existence, am excited. The weather says, citizens of San Diego, I dearly love you, here is a beautiful weekend for you to play outside. I wish I could show it to you. I know most of you would kill me, or fly out immediately to visit (the latter is preferred). Despite what weather.com says, there are no clouds. It's at least 70. It's all I can do right now to resist donning my bathing suit and heading to the pool (I assure you, I will as soon as I am done here) without delay.

And. The big one. And...the flowers are blooming. It's spring. The pink jasmine have arrived, which couldn't make me happier. Pink jasmine is my absolute favorite smell in the whole wide world. It's right here, in my own backyard. It's fabu. Other flowers that are blooming include iceplant (swathes of orange, red, and purple adorning the highways and hillsides) and daisies (yellow fields and lawns!). It's only the beginning. In the next two weeks, everything will be crazy and chaotic with color.

The hypocrisy of my post lies thus: In spite of my distaste for my city's politics, suburban sprawl, and traffic-riddled streets, you can't beat the weather. You just can't. Maybe tie it, or come in a close second...but you can't beat it. Hands down the best weather ever.

Days like today make it hard to think of leaving. Days like today I can forget that I'm stuck behind 20 cars at a red light because I'm singing Ani songs at the top of my lungs with the windows down and my besandaled feet tapping. Days like today I remember why I hate being a lifeguard anywhere else. Days like today you can't help being young, and hopeful, and free. Days like today...you'll find me at the pool.

See ya there.