it's raining out.

i love the rain. they say it clarifies the atmosphere, it's like a shower in a fart-laden bathroom. and maybe it does, and maybe it doesn't. but in a way, i think that it does, i don't know, emotionally? i always thought that when it stormed, and stormed hard, then it was the world showing us how it really, truly is. all that sunshine crap is good every now and then, like a saccharin snack, but the world in a storm is REAL. see the concern on everyone's face. everyone united by this kind of quiet anxiety that (don't deny it) a feeling somewhat like excitement.

i remember (it is one of my few concrete memories of real warm parental affection)
... one day, my brother and i were riding our bikes home, and there was a really horrific rainstorm... and it was funny, i actually FELT cold, and pretended that i was frozen, ala C3po from star wars, my arms all bent 90 degrees. my jaw felt rigid from the shivering. and for some reason, my ma was home. she had us take a warm shower, and gave us warm cocoa. i swear, my mother is a great mother, but she NEVER did stuff like that (or i guess i would have remembered more). it was the best feeling in the world.

maybe it's because of little memories like that that i actually like rainstorms... they are sometimes the only times when people actually seem to unite in care for one another. the "safe" sunny days are for "fayerweather" friends, etc. give me a storm any day.