First off, some midsummer stats:
Pickled herrings eaten: 0
Strawberry servings eaten: 1
Flowers picked: 3
Fences jumped: 0
Frog dances performed: 0
Shots of Aquavit consumed: 0
Beers consumed: a few
Weather: cold and drizzly
Bedtime: 3 am
Overall, I have to say that’s a big, fat F. At least the weather was authentic, it always ends up raining in Sweden on midsummer. But I’ve been told that rain in California in June is against the constitution, so I am looking forward to see what repercussions will follow.
The only halfway midsummery thing I did was to pick three random flowers by the side of the road for good measure as I was riding home from work via Cañada and Skyline. If I’d been on my cross bike, I could have made it a totally rad ride while sticking to traditions. Picking flowers in a manner akin to dollar grabs, and jumping over fences with the bike. Cross bikes are practically made for midsummer nights!
While not authentic, the midsummer celebrations had to commence somehow. Tina and I settled for some tandoori fish at Pakwan, seeing as they don’t serve pickled herring. Possibly being fed up with the hipsters that were throwing up into trash can next to us, Tina then suggested we should hang out at my place rather than hers for once, so I apologized in advance for the sweaty shorts that I’d left on the floor an hour previously and we headed home for more beer. Proof of what a bachelor I’ve become was imminent, and then I’m not even talking about the fact that there’s lots of beer but not much food in my fridge, or that my living room is full of bikes. No, Tina first yelled that I’m a much better bachelor than she is as she stepped in the bathroom to realize that I had no toilet paper, but I did have lots of cycling magazines (note: the latter is not meant a substitute for the former!). Then she even tweeted about my bachelorness as I served her beer in glasses that say#include <beer.h>.
Somehow the evening ended up being a very late one, and as a result of this, today’s morning ended up being a very late one. I did put my lonely three flowers under my pillow last night, so while I couldn’t expect to dream about whom I will marry I was hoping to at least get partial credit and dream about someone to go on a date with next Thursday or whatever. But nope, I don’t think I dreamed anything.
But as I was waiting for BART to go on an East Bay ride today, the cyclist who got off his train, walked down the stairs, turned around and came back to ask me out totally made my day.