With spring always come spring fever. It’s the season of thirst, skin and change. Here are some of my favorites.
Red Sox baseball. I know most of the world doesn’t understand baseball (or so I’m beginning to realize) but WOOO. If only I could make it to Fenway this spring. The boys have already had a rough start to the season but I feel like if I could be there to support (see: harass) them, it’d be different. Much like the time I showed up to batting practice and screamed at the rookies to take their shirts off. They loved that shit and surprise, surprise, they won that game. And in case anyone forgot, I heart Dustin Pedrioa like you wouldn’t.BELIEVE—for his skills, his mouth and that he’s a little guy. I’ve always got a soft spot for the mouthy little guy.
Bright polish. By April, I’m so tired of wearing shoes that it’s almost killing me. I am so anxious to get out my flops and sandals and get something bright on my toes.
Songs that make me want to drive around fast with my windows down and/or dance. (Whip my Hair, G6, Lions’ Roar, Crazy in Love, etc)
This particular son Lion’s Roar, makes me want to shake my ass. Again, I’ll just blame that on spring fever and my inability to sit still.
Lawnmowers. True story, I love to mow the lawn. I would do it every weekend without complaining. Forget dishes. Mowing is where it’s at. And I don’t want a riding mower. I like to push and pull mine all around the yard, listening to my iPod at makeyoudeaf levels and sweating in the sun. Take this weekend, for example. Three hours of mowing and weeding and I was a happy gal. And while we’re at it, I love bagging grass and I like the smell of dirt. I figure those can go under the category of lawnmowers because “I like the smell of dirt” is slightly weird on its own.
I want some in a tent, shoes off, grill on the fire, action. And soon. Honestly, is there anything better than spending a day in the sun and a night by the fire, talking about a whole lot of random, drinking beers and then falling asleep under the stars? Um no, there isn’t. And by the way, did you know that most people from other countries (see: my international friends) have NO idea what a s’mores is? Are you fucking KIDDING ME? That is fucking bullshit. I am going to host an international camping trip and teach them the real way to camp. In a tent. With chocolate.
(picture of s’mores included for those American treat challenged. MUST I TEACH YOU GUYS EVERYTHING???)
Showing skin. It’s about that time. Tanks on, sweaters gone. Thank god. I was reminded of this when I saw my lesbian crush’s recent photo shoot.
Because let’s be honest. Spring is really about taking clothes off.
Now. Just so you know, it’s 65 and sunny here, I am not camping, I am not in my lawn, I have all my clothes and shoes on and I am stuck at work during spring break. All of which is really, really fucking bullshit.