What I love about spring in Chicago:
The dark, gnarled trees of March and April suddenly explode with blossoms of green and pink and white, turning an overcast world into one shaded with color and alive with fragrance.
What I hate about spring in Chicago:
All the fine young women of our fair city, previously cloaked in multiple layers through the long fall and longer winter months, now are adorned in short sleeves and frequent smiles. The train ride to work this a.m. was nearly unbearable, featuring as it did a redhead who looked like Molly Ringwald, a blonde who looked like Hillary Scott and a brunette who looked like a pre-extreme-weight-loss Lara Flynn Boyle.
I liked it far better when I couldn't see what I was missing.
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2 comments:
Bro, you know I'm feeling your pain, although mine is caused by the sudden appearance of male torsos and jeans-clad backsides previously hidden by winter parkas. I can't claim to be missing out altogether, but I'm reminded of how much more there is to enjoy. Hey, I'm a single gay man...
HA!
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