Summer quarter is almost done, and I couldn't be dreading fall quarter more. The problem with being a grown up is that there are no more summer 'vacations', and the months between May and September are just sweatier, stickier versions of real life. Regardless of how much, (or little) life changes between summer and fall, each changing of seasons will inevitable evoke some amount of catharsis in all of us. This seasons hardly halfway through, and I am already having a hard time letting go of it.
I'll be the first person to complain about the heat. I have no shame. Summer in Seattle is not my favorite. I feel like there are far too many haters, of my hate for the heat. But honestly people, if I wanted to be hot, I wouldn't live here. You need a break from the rain? You're in the wrong city. I hate the summer, but I love this one.
This Sunday marks one month in my new little home, and I'm telling you, this ones for keeps. I am living here with David, Joe, and Carlos. Joe is an old friend, David is a new friend, and Carlos is David's little brother who he is in the process of adopting. Something about three 22 year olds, living with a 14 year old makes me like to imagine we are a sitcom. In my head our show is called 'Raising Carlos'. Out loud David shoots me down and says Joe and I aren't fit to raise a child. David's probably right, and I'm not really worried about it. We have a killer back yard, with a fence for Bean, and a stump for me. I like to lean against it and drink beers. Sit on top of it and watch the boys play soccer. Or stand on top of it and talk to our neighbors. A lot has made me happy this summer, but little compares to how happy I am to watch my baby bean bag play in his yard. I could almost squeal, I actually probably have, over how cute he is when he rolls his teeny tiny dog body across all the grasses. I hope that he's happy, and I am almost sure that he is. I sleep upstairs in what we call The Red Room, and I like that it has a name. It's a tiny little attic room, with a giant closet, low ceilings, and the perfect amount of room for Beansly and I. We are very happy about it, although if we're being very honest we've surely spent less time home than we have away. We've spent most of our away time with Bruce and Opal, and we're very happy about them too.
I'll try very hard to spare you a cheese-fest of sappy new relationship cupid poop, as long as you know, it's not easy. Bruce is my super cute boyfriend, but he wouldn't like to be called that. For his sake we will call him sexy and manly. And don't worry we aren't lying-- he's those things too. Opal is his cutie Catahoula pup. Her and Bean love each other and it's disgusting, more disgusting than Bruce and I could ever dream to be together. 2 days ago marked one month of our baby relationship. And damn, has it been a good month. We mostly like the same things, like dogs, beautiful things, and Taylor Swift. We are both babies about the heat, and when it's too hot to move we just lay in bed and listen to music. Those times are my favorite. Pouring over old albums from our pasts and exchanging our memories. He'll play my favorite song for me and hearing it there, together, is like hearing it for the first time. Later when it's cool enough to move, we might buy a bottle of wine, and drive somewhere pretty. These times are my favorite too.
Sometimes he will tell me that I am beautiful, and I think he actually means it, and I think I like that.
For the first time in a long time, I feel like I'm surrounded by only the best people. I'm taking care of myself, and I've filtered out the bad. It's been the best summer I've had since I've moved here, and potentially one of the best ever.
The pups and I are pooped, so it's here that we say
Happy Friday :)
Cheers
This entry brought to you by The Red Room and a bed full of dogs.
