I guess at this point it’s undeniable – summer is over. I haven’t seen the sun in at least 5 days, and my rainboots are back in the regular rotation. It’s sad – I only made it to the beach once in 2011 and I didn’t even get to bake then. The days are getting shorter and so is my temper.
With Dave out of town (Tokyo), I get to pretend to be a single lady for ten days. Those of you who know me won’t be surprised to hear I’m acting like a complete bachelor. Watching shitty movies, drinking whiskey, staying too late at office parties – all bad foreshadowing as to what would happen if I was single again anytime in my early twenties. Am I even still in my early twenties? Don’t answer. I will be in my early twenties forever.
Before I pass out, I’d like to recommend Hemingway to anyone and everyone. I know he was the writer everyone hated to read growing up, but the more I read about him and his wife the more I’m enraptured. While I was in Paris I read A Moveable Feast, which was magical, then I read Farewell to Arms, then recently just finished A Paris Wife and now am quickly devouring The Sun Also Rises. All this was complemented by Midnight in Paris, of course. Read any or all of the books above — they’re all great! New York is great, teeming with artists and all that, but will there ever be such a “Lost Generation” as Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Pound, and so on? Will it be as interesting?