Spring Fever

I can't concentrate on anything today. The window is wide open and this amazing early-spring breeze is circulating through my office, making it seem obscene to pour my energy into things like end-of-year reports and budget balancing. Scantily clad students are lying in the sun all over campus today, and I can't say I blame them. Spring in Ohio is a WAY bigger deal than it is down south. We bundle up in October and stay that way for the duration, spending as little time as possible outside, because we'll be plagued with slush and salt and dirty snow (and besides, the sun's only putting in a rare appearance). Those first few days of spring, when everything is melted and the trees are starting to flower and you can smell the green in the air, feel like manna from heaven.

Naturally I'm feeling pretty good these days--large doses of sunlight will do that to you. And I'm feeling restless. I blame spring for that, too--nature's on a crazy frenzy to bloom and reproduce, so doesn't it make sense that people start to feel the same way? It doesn't help that people are pairing off left and right, and my sister is seriously pregnant, and my ambiguous relationship continues to get more and more confusing as I refuse to confront it. I hate it when I get like this, focusing too much on my state of singleness and ignoring everything else that's great about my life.

OK, so I haven't written about my Philip Seymour Hoffman obsession lately. This month in O magazine, they asked him what his favorite books were...and of course he and I have a shared favorite (A Thousand Acres, by Jane Smiley, in case anybody's wondering). Peacegrrl Seymour Hoffman...I like the sound of that. I can't wait to see him play a mean bastard in the new Mission Impossible movie, even if it means enduring a few hours of that crazy fucker Tom Cruise. And I'm extraordinarily pleased to see that PSH finally has a fan site , even if it's a little lame. It's a start.

Well, I've managed to successfuly kill about an hour and a half on this post, so I guess I'll get back to today's version of "work," which basically entails listening to Interpol and pushing paperwork around my desk. Happy springtime!
-pg