Monday, April 12, 2010

April Is Totally the Cruelest Month

We had a balmy idyll of a weekend (well, except for the small part of it where I crunched numbers and trotted off to the community meetings of school board members for a little bit of advocacy. Yawn.). The air felt like a caress on the skin. Trees everywhere were haloed with a delicate verdant haze. The sun shone. The birds chirped. The kids bounced and chattered with sunny delight.
And yet, I thought of T.S. Eliot, never the cheeriest of poets:

April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire

And I thought: Boyfriend totally understood what happens to many a chick with a limited budget on a fine spring weekend. You enjoy the day. You feel the sun on your face, the breeze in your hair, but somewhere in all that pure, delicious physical enjoyment of the day, you realize that it would be really nice to, say, enjoy the spring evening and go on a date with your significant other. And then you think, it’d be fun to dress up for that. And then, you think through your closet while watching the lilac buds fattening in the sunlit air and think, dammit, I don’t have anything to wear that will make me feel as springy and fantastic as this. And then you think, well... just a couple of really cute accessories might do the trick. And then you think: no budget for that, cookie. And then you think of T.S. Eliot's lines about April. Or, well, I do. Is it materialistic and kind of revolting? You betcha.

Still. If I could sort out the budget problems blocking purchases of frivolous and impractical accessories, I might need a dress to go with the new accessories. Or, if it was spring luncheon instead of a date, a really bitchin’ giganto hat.

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