These Are the Days (I Think) I Love

On the start of this Memorial Day weekend, I've become nostalgic to the old days of summer, back when I was little.

Today's kind of a more grown-up version, because I didn't get to wake up late and watch TV on the couch and eat cereal with Rachel and James and then run outside and play. I had to wake up early and drive to the Superior Court and serve on the jury for a civil case.

Let me tell you what a load of you-know-what that was.

Sitting in court all morning listening to nit-picky lawyers squabble over who said what four and a half years ago (yes, that's how long ago this "crime" took place) makes me want nothing more than to smoke a menthol cigarette (I don't smoke). The sole two highlights of my day (and I got lucky--it's only 4pm and I'm already home) were meeting a fellow UConn grad who also happened to be an English major (we apparently just never crossed paths on the whole two floors of the English department in four years...) and hearing a lawyer floundering on the floor of the courtroom, losing his respectability (to me) by saying, "Okay, well--hang on a minute here, let's take a time-out [insert goofy time-out hand motions here], and just.....let's look at this scene--take pic." Maybe I'm supposed to be some responsible, mature, professional juror who has to sit and listen without literally biting my lip and turning my suppressed giggle into a clearing of my throat, but for goodness sakes I am, after all, only the alternate juror and he actually said "take pic"!

I'll stop there, because I have to go back on both next Wednesday AND Thursday and I don't want to bore you with too many gripes. Lord knows I won't have any other exciting thing to blog about come next week so I'll have to restrain myself and wait till then to share more.

But getting back to the old days of summer (is that how I started this post?) that wasn't just some random thought that popped into my head and made me think, "Hmm, I'll write about this." I promise, I do have a point.

I stepped out of my car once I parked in my driveway and realized just how hot out it really was (I guess there is one positive thing about this whole jury business--I got to stay inside in the air conditioning instead of suffering outside in the ninety degree heat). It was that gross stifling heat, too--the kind where it just pushes right into your nostrils and into your lungs, and I could hear the bugs and birds complaining, too.

But when I stepped into my house, I couldn't help but smile. As soon as the door shut behind me, I existed in perfect solitude and darkness--my mom had done what she used to always do when I was a little girl: she had kept all the windows shut and the shades drawn and hung blankets over the doors to keep out all the sunlight (my parents have yet to catch up to 2009 and get air conditioning, amongst other things--call waiting, cable telvision, caller ID--shall I go on?). The only noise I could hear was the soft whirring of the standing fan from the living room that I used to sing to the Little Mermaid into, reveling in the fact that it would wobble my voice making me think that I actually did sound like Ariel when Ursula was taking her voice away. Ah, to be young.

So, to sum up--I loved those days, and I think I still love these days, too. Just in an entirely different way.

(Photo via AlanbytheSea)