2002-04-17 - 2:59 a.m.

Summer now. Summer. Summer.

Hot. It's friggin' hot. I rally against it.

When people talk about loving when it's hot, I hate them. When they trash snow, I hate them. Passionately. As if there's a vote coming up, and the jackasses are gonna cast a ballot for 365 consecutive days of humidity and sweat.

Maybe I should move to the North.

Oh, wait. I live in friggin� Boston. Ice rinks. Blizzard of '78.

Melted.

Global warming and what not, and the sun will kill us all, and flies and rats and germs are thriving in the heat, and the ice caps are melting, but we just love ice cream and the beach and fighting when the bars close.

But people tend to be in a better mood, somehow, suffering silently in their short sleeve shirts and silly birkenstocks.

So that's one nice thing 'bout the Summer.

Last summer was good to me. I had H. around, for one, and lots of good Summer friends.

I think I have friends now too. Maybe the cycle repeats?

And I'm moving soon. And I don't want to think about it. I love being here and I never want to leave.

Went to play pool with C. (from work), and her roommate (who I liked right away�I've met him before), and Molly.

Got to see C. (from work) drive.

That was crazy. To see her drive�of course she drove well, but I never see anyone drive. The only people I know who I've seen drive cars are my parents and other assorted relatives.

Me, I got a job in the city, workin' for the Man every night and day.