Summer!

Before you came around, I hated summer.
I realize this is a bit conflicting. You know, because hating summer when you live in San Diego means that you'll be miserable most every day.

What I'm specifically talking about, though, is actual summer. Like June through August.
It's just that I always get some sort of bad news in June. And because of my genetic battle with awkward arms, there's the question of stylish wardrobe choices for July and August.

I do have to give credit to DAAAD, who proposed to me on June 1 (2004) specifically so that I wouldn't hate June so much. And it worked. Sorta.

But this year, I don't know, I love summer.

You and me, kid. We do all sorts of wonderful things. We go to the beach and get all sandy. We take swimming lessons. We go swimming even when we don't have swimming lessons. We walk (I stroll you) to the neighborhood ice cream shop where we eat vanilla cones for dinner.

And even though I still got some pretty terrible news in June, and even though I still hate my arms, it all doesn't seem so bad when I have you as my little summertime pal.