Hey, ding-a-ding-ding, sweet lovers love the spring: 3.22.04

Flbfft. I took matters in my own hands with this reluctant spring bullshit. When March 20 rolls around, as far as I�m concerned spring has officially clocked in. So what that the temperatures continue to fluctuate between frigid and glorious? I welcomed the season with much aplomb this weekend, certain that by May we will have been given the chance to bask in the approximately 4 days of just-right 70 degree weather dc usually gets to enjoy before the crucible of SUMMER descends upon us. So I went to some house party that was supposedly thrown in honor of the equinox, but involved the usual 100 people packed into a backyard in order to enjoy smoking privileges while dj�s spun forlornly to the healthy few indoors, my consumption of half a jar of olive juice as the drinks emptied out, and a brooding, darkly handsome boy who gave good chat and met my come-hither looks all night, but ended up with his hands down the legwarmers of some dimbo. But it was fun, straight through to mid-morning on Sunday. And I was quite a Smokey Joe. Thusly, my throat is currently about as pink and swollen as the little cherry blossom I saw yesterday all ready to burst forth into bloom.