tavie.com

Ah, the tragedy of summertime: people start cutting their hair.
Clips, people, clips. Clips and pins and elastics and scrunchies.

I love summertime in this city. I walked several blocks out of my way the other day to buy a watermelon. Not a whole watermelon; a quarter of a watermelon. I love people walking around in their little skimpy outfits and sweating and wearing sandals and groovin' in the sunshine with their bad selves, and dogs running around with their tongues all out and little kids with ice cream up to their elbows. It feeds into all of my "Free To Be You and Me" 70's New York fantasies (Linn can dig my jibe on this).
There are bad things, of course. Sweat smells stinky and I don't like walking around simultaneously hating and wishing I could be every woman in a sleeveless shirt that I see. I particularly hate those handkerchief-shirt bitches, because I wish I was one of them. It's so Elfquest.

But, anyway. I love watermelon. I have this thing where when it gets like this I like to ring in the summer by walking down the street eating a piece of watermelon. It has
to be a Manhattan street and preferably there should be seeds to spit out. And it helps if I'm wearing tie-dye, but that's not essential.

Doobie-doobie-do.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:20 PM | shower me with attention