Rhapsody in (grayish) blue.

This morning was ridiculously nice; it was sunny and breezy and over 53 degreeees! (I drag out my E's when I am pleasantly surprised.) Oh, sunshine and reasonable temperatures, how I've missed you. The nice weather held out until I got to work (it's now cloudy and threatening rain), and it felt great. I felt great. I got my Vitamin D on... yeah - what up sunshine. I dawdled around Downtown for a while (the train usually gets me into the city with 45 minutes to take a 10 minute T ride) and splurged on an iced caramel macchiato, because it was just one of those mornings. You've got to roll with that good feeling.

Now, normally at das 'bucks, when they ask for my name, I tell them "Alex" because that's what they end up writing anyway... but in a moment of unguarded happiness, I gave the barista my real name to write on the cup - and he got it right! A million awesome points for him. I may hate my name, but I love when people get it right. They are the few. The proud. The people I like for their ability to hear and repeat two particular syllables. (Catchy, right?)

I feel lighter, in spirits and otherwise... which is a nice change from last night when I wanted to body-checked a rude, middle-aged woman who walked into me face-first while I was getting off the T. Which brings me to one of my biggest pet peeves: when people who want to get ON the T stand directly in doorway, thus preventing the people who want to get OFF the T from actually fulfilling their simple desire, thereby creating what is known in the scientific world as a "clusterfuck." It's like trying to take off your jacket while you're putting on your shirt. I wonder how people like that, who apparently don't know how doors work, haven't offed themselves by heedlessly sticking metal objects in their toasters or juggling blow-driers while they're soaking their feet in the tub, or some other Darwinian death. Those people are the same people who stop the moment they're off the escalator, especially if there are 87 people directly behind them. These people are not my favorite people. I doubt any of them would get my name right.

But I digress.

There is a notable, visceral change that people undergo when the weather improves - people get bolder, more social - which may account for the "ola, senorita" I got waiting for the T this morning. Sketchtastic. You can practically hear "Morning Mood" swelling while walking through the streets - people shake off that drab grayness that has clung to them for the past several months. And I know it's way too early to call it "spring," but it's hard not to look forward to the future - especially when the future has COLOR! And no more ice! Which means no more salt and sand! And none too soon - it looks like a beach exploded in Copley Square.

"Grab your shovels and pails, kids! We're going to Dartmouth Street!"