Apparently my raindance (it’s more like a striptease, actually) was quite effective, because my dream of almost non-stop rain has finally come true. I don’t know how long it’s been going on (I don’t keep detailed weather records and I don’t think it’s worth researching on the internet) (feel free to investigate on your own, if you are so inclined, and proudly email me with the results), but the last time I think we saw blue skies and a happy yellow sun babysitting this city was last Thursday.
Now, ordinarily I really dislike (not hate, but close) talk about the weather, but because this is an “extreme” case, an aberration, I suppose it doesn’t bother me as much. The talk, that is. The rain, of course, doesn’t bother me at all. In fact, I invite even more. All I can say is Bring it on! (I never actually say that in real life. Unless, of course, I’m referring to the movie of the same name starring my beloved Eliza Dushku.)
Feel free to hate me for wishing this rain upon the land. You already hate me for being beautiful and thin and fabulous anyway, so why not?
P.S. Unless you yourself are four people, please do not use an umbrella that could accommodate a barbershop quartet. Thank you.