Tried to explain to C the other night why summer's not my scene. And really it's not even about summer, exactly, but more about extremes, when a season goes straight to bottom and flattens out, just all heat or cold, because I fucking hate winter, too. But fall and spring -- yeah, they're all right. They have shades and gradations and expectations built in. Fall is serious both with starting and ending, and people do things in the fall, and dress appropriately, like adults. Contrast that with summer, where everyone dresses in shorts and sandals and ridiculous hats (all hats are ridiculous, on principle), wandering around all stick legs and arm fat and thinking about ice cream. Like overgrown toddlers. The retarded ones just forego shirts altogether. And you can't cook, and you spend all this time driving to crowded beaches and smaller versions of your own home, and the night is ruled by bugs. And I know spring is just a preview to all that, but at least it has that mutability, and borrows its themes along the way.