Orange Girl World

I believe Bananarama got it right.  It is indeed a cruel summer.  In fact, I would say summer is the cruelest time of year. 

I didn’t always feel this way.  When I was a child, I couldn’t wait for school to be over and the summer to begin.  It meant two and a half months of freedom; going swimming, watching soaps and MTV and having play-dates during the week not just on Sunday afternoons.  In my teenage years, the summer got even better.  Not only did I have two and a half months watching soaps and MTV, but I could go out on weekday nights and not just on Friday and Saturday night.  I always thought summer would be my favourite time of year.

Things changed once I got to university.  Although I hated school, I loved university.  I loved all my classes.  Okay, I hatedliterary criticism and 20th century poetry, but they were blips in an otherwise blissful class schedule.  I was in Paris, and it was a particularly good time to be an American in Paris.  The dollar was really high against the franc, so could spend money without a care.  I went shopping nearly everyday.  My wardrobe nearly burst it was so full.  I had steak dinners and champaign every week, if not most days.  It was a really decadent time, kinda of like the 20’s but without the jazz music.

Anyhow, that made the summer seem to be a bit of a drag.  Not that I wasn’t happy to see my family, I was, but I had to work over the summer.  I worked fulltime at the Pottstown Public Library.  While I look back now and realise it was a really great place to work, at the time it seemed fantastically dull compared to life at university.

Summer for me has been a disappointment for me since.  There have been a few okay ones.  The summer of 2003 was pretty good and pretty memorable, but on a whole they have been drab and dull.  It has slowly made me realise what a rip-off season it is.

First there is summer television.  No matter what country you live in, it’s dreadful.  What do tv execs think we are doing?  The entire world can’t all be on vacation at the same time, and contrary to popular belief, very few of us are  outside enjoying the nice weather.  This is because there isn’t any nice weather. 

I grew on the East Coast of the United States.  It’s miserable there.  It’s hot, and it’s humid.  If you attempt to go outside, or go anywhere that doesn’t have air-conditioning, you will melt.  Literally.  You melt and die.  I’ve seen it happen.  I now live in England.  It never gets above 65 degrees.  It rains nearly all the time.  It’s the middle of July and you still are walking around with an umbrella wearing a heavy overcoat.  As you can see, neither environment is suitable for outdoor frollicks.  So why won’t they give us nice things to watch on the tv since we can’t go outside?

Then there is the clothes.  They are hideous.  They are in really awful colours – usually lime green and brown.  They have odd spangles and fringes on them.  They manage to make the most reed-thin, waif-like girl look like a watermelon.  I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of people who look better wearing less clothing (Josh Holloway being first on that list).  The rest of us look much better hiding under layers of sweaters and winter coats.  In England, summer clothes are particularly stupid because it never gets warm enough to wear them, but all the stores still sell them.  My husband claims they are sold to people vacationing in a warm climate.  I do not believe this.  I believe they are bought by mad people hoping beyond all hope that this will be the year England has a summer, and they will be able to wear flip-flops and tanks without catching pneumonia.

Finally there are tourists.  Yes, I do realise that we are all eventually a tourist somewhere, but there is honestly nothing more annoying than a tourist in your hometown.  They walk so slow and drive so slow, and seem to take up tons of space everywhere.  They ask really obvious questions and always need directions.  I know I have done all of this in foreign cities, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it when it happens where I live.

Although I used to cry when the leaves started to turn and days started to get shorter, I now cheer.  Everyone will start to put their clothes back on, people will go back home and there will be things worth watching on tv again.  It also means that Christmas is getting closer, and Christmas time is genuinely the best time of year.