disbelief and relief

I've had a few moments lately where I am overwhelmed at the relief that it really is summer. And I therefore realize that I truly speculated - rather subconsciously - that I'd moved to a perpetually-frigid and terrible place. I think that lack of logic (considering I moved here during the summer and experienced the sweat that came with it) might indicate that winter was just a tad traumatic for me.

It happened first last Saturday at the farmer's market. I bussed to downtown St Paul and bought cucumbers, spinach, herbs, and a bouquet of red peonies. The moment I entered the bustling market and saw the green spread on tables everywhere - a site I took for granted every Saturday of every month in Oakland - I almost cried. I said under my breath, "It really happened." It really got warm enough to sprout anything and it stayed warm enough to grow it.

The second time was two days ago when I walked outside in a t-shirt and decided to leave a long-sleeved shirt at home rather than tote it around in case it got cold. I realized, "it really did warm up. It really is summer." I choked up - seriously!

Today it also happened. L. and I joined a CSA and tonight picked up our first share of produce of the season. It now really is summer! Proof exists in my fridge: these beauties of kale, spinach, radishes, strawberries and lettuce were not shipped in from California or Mexico or Chile! They were grown and picked within an hour's drive. Such relief.

I will live this summer unlike I've lived any other summer before.

Pinch me.

On the continuum of how much regular human interaction people need, I'd always veered toward the end of "minimal." Imagine why I didn't much enjoy being a reporter. Newsrooms were nightmares.

I lived in Oakland for four years and commuted into San Francisco nearly every day. It's a wonderful place to live and lots of people think so, and it's much too crowded. I never felt alone, even when I was alone. You get crammed into carpools, buses, trains, sidewalks, tiny apartments, cubicles, restaurants. And after living in excessively overpopulated El Salvador, San Francisco was doable - but still consistently irritable - in the amount of energy drained out of me daily from just being around a whole lotta people.

My universe twin visited in the fall. He lives LA. I think he was a little unnerved by how unpopulated the Twin Cities felt to him. You just get so used to it, even though it really is hard on us introverts. And oddly enough, we get to missing the crowds. It's so weird to miss it.

I've been feeling something I'VE NEVER FELT BEFORE. I want to be around people. Crowds even. Until now, I've been very crowd averse. I want to talk and be chatty for more than 10 minutes. I figured it out today. Minnesota winters are long, grey, frigid, and make people hibernate as much as they humanly can outside of fulfilling their 40 hour a week obligations on the job.

I'm so ready for summer! Because it means green, warm AND because it means Minnesotans will become happy, social and agreeable again!

Reminds me of something I read or watched about New York City residents getting a fuller amount of human touch than other Americans because they bump into each other on the subway and sidewalk. That there's some kind of health benefit from that.

I've never looked forward to anything social and I can't wait to see people outside again. Pinch me.