Groundhog Day

I know I promised more "make your own" things.  Maybe I will get to this tomorrow?

Right now I want to talk about the weather.  This past fall I was very anxious that I had ruined my fall by still being physically and emotionally involved with my ex-boyfriend.  I spent the entirety of my favorite season being wracked with self doubt, low self esteem, and unhappiness.  As the holidays neared, and passed, I waited in dread for the long snowbound days to commence, envisioning myself cold, alone, and worse, lonely.  So, imagine my surprise and joy at the fantastic January weather with beautiful, balmy days, and outings almost every weekend night with friends and new dates.  Now that I am moving in to February I have social engagements most nights and I am enjoying my time, happy both in the company I am keeping, and the weather.

Yesterday I walked to a beach on the East River with my wonderful friend Geoff whom I am seeing for the first time since he moved to Portland five years ago.  Afterwards I went to a delicious oyster bar with a very nice gentleman chef, then attended my cousin's birthday comedy show.  With such beautiful sunshine this morning I hightailed it to the coffee shop and sat outside, reading a novel.  The windows are open in the apartment and I am actually debating shaving under my arms.  What?  It is still winter.

My point being, weather dominates atmosphere in novels.  Jane Eyre can be told by the weather, never mind all the coach rides, gypsies, and (possibly) bastard children.  The weather seems to be giving me a second chance to move on; it is giving me the space and atmosphere to explore the world as it unfolds in the (possibly) last year of the world.  Just kidding, I don't believe in that stuff.  Here is to a brave Punxsutawney Phil tomorrow.