Monday, June 22, 2009

Dear Massachusetts: Please stop sucking.

I love you. You know I do. I grew up here, and even when people bash you as being puritanical and stuffy, I stick up for you. When people complain about how bad the weather is, I remind them that it's really not that much better in other places. But seriously, this argument is getting harder and harder to make, when you insist on raining for the entire month of June. And not just rain, but gales and gusts, and downpours, and mists that make my umbrella useless (and turn it into a dangerous weapon, when the wind is blowing hard enough), and humid air that's still cold even though it makes me sweaty. I am tired of being damp. My boyfriend wishes you would fall into the ocean so that we would have an excuse to move to a sunnier climate. I vaguely remember something kind of yellow and bright that used to be up in the sky, but the memory is so foggy now (the humidity has seeped into my brain, it seems) that I can't even remind him of what that was like. I have lost all concept of time, since everything is an equal shade of gray, whether it is morning, afternoon, or evening. I find myself curling ever closer to desk lamps, like some kind of human beanstalk. 
Please. For the love of all that is holy. Stop raining. All of the vitamin D supplements in the world will not stop me from getting rickets at this rate. Is that really what you want? I'm short enough as it is and you know it.
I'm willing to forgive you this once if you admit that you were wrong. You have my number.

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