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Thursday, April 14, 2005

Because I don't talk enough about the weather

I went walking outside last night, and the weather reminded me so much of what I grew up with in Kansas. I can't believe I'm finding it down here; I love it.

There was something powerful about the melancholic dark dampness of Kansas springs. In Chicago, it was grey for months, and then suddenly in the summer, hot as hell. In Kansas, and Alabama, the springtime sun dips behind a cloud, and the sky turns into rumbling dark moments of thunder and rain. It reminds me of high school. As much as I think, in theory, that high school was something to be endured, survived, and forgotten, there were times of incredible brilliance, too. My favorite memories are enclosed in a rainy day.

Prom. Junior, senior year? It doesn't matter anymore. They both took place during a spring storm. Suddenly school hierarchy melted away, and everyone was best friends. I attended both with my girl friends, no dates, and there was something fun and carefree about it, rather than depressing because of the lack of boy attention. I got to dance with someone I'd never admit to having a crush on. The (junior) prom I engineered ended up a masterful success. At an after-party, the class asshole taught me how to use a lasso, and we were friends for a brief moment. (That could have, of course, presaged our random drunken one-night-stands in college, but who knew at the time?) The after-after-party, the first party I ever attended that had beer (I was sheltered!), and an NC-17 movie. We ran barefoot in our princess dresses through the puddles to our cars, and we all drove home at dawn, still raining, to sleep for the whole weekend.

In Chicago, the grey-ness of winter drags at the soul, and it seems interminable to even hope that the sun is just in hiding. The grey days here have power behind them. A hint of menace, and thunder, and an exciting promise. Spring, rebirth? Seems like such a fucking cliche. But still.

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

charity says:
I truly love your writing. That made me homesick, I miss that weather so much.

3:52 PM  
Blogger Jen said...

That makes me think of the day we were all at Hannah's house, upstairs in her room chased inside by the rain if I remember right. Talking of how we believed and what we stood for.

Last night it felt like the summer of 92 for just a moment I was younger and thought of you.

9:52 AM  

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