Girlwich

The mercury hit the mid-80's today, and that wasn't the only sign of summer. I bought a new bottle of sunscreen (Hawaiian Tropic for Kids SPF 60, with attached mini-bottle to carry in my bag at all times, to protect the tattoo). I made the season's first jar of windowsill iced tea. I unveiled my incredibly pale calves, and wore my favorite purple sandals.

I walked like a blue streak through my neighborhood, listening to Morcheeba, which always seems like beach music, or rather, like driving-to-the-beach music.

I had to tie my jean jacket around my waist because it was too hot. On the train, I marveled at the lady with the 1980's pouf haircut reapplying her already too-red-and-sloppy lipstick after drinking her TAB from a red lipstick-covered straw. I peered carefully at the intensely frowning young Latina sitting across from me. Was she frowning at me? She was looking right at me, and frowning frowning frowning. But it didn't seem like there was anything to be frowning at me for, so I think maybe she was thinking of something that made her mad. I almost told her she'd get wrinkles if she wasn't careful, but then I thought she might hit me.

I watched the lady in the head-to-toe black burkha, wondering how the hell she'd manage to make it through the real heat of summer in that getup. She had a stroller and a small boy and a husband with her. The husband did not help her carry the stroller on the stairs, though he did move aside and let me pass, when I was getting ready to just wait for them. I wondered about that. Why be polite to the infidel? And why not help your wife carry the stroller? Was that women's work?

Then I looked over at the door of the subway and did a slow double-take. Quadruple-take. Yep, the pranksters are getting spring fever. Look closely at this pic (click to enlarge). Read the sign on the right-hand door, and then the sign on the left. One of these things is not like the others, one of these things just doesn't belong. Can you tell which thing is not sanctioned by the MTA, by the time I finish my song?

I spent a moment being delighted by the fact that I now have a tiny camera which always travels in my bag, so that I was able to reproduce this image for your amusement, instead of merely having to jot down the text and regale you with a tale that you might not quite believe I hadn't fabricated.

Then I came home and split open the first perfect $2.50 pineapple of the season. I think it's about time to do a little yarn-shopping. I need to knit myself a bikini.