lost horizons

every summer, it's always the same. i think back to 1998 when i quit my job and lived off my savings. partying, vacationing. the two weeks in florida with the girls. meeting lindsay. meeting the boy. staying up every night till 3am IMing or talking on the phone with one or both of them. hopping in the car at night. still warm as hell. windows down. music blaring. gin blossoms, evan and jaron, matchbox twenty. the best friend. the road trips. getting lost. more than once. running through corn fields in the dark. laying in the wet grass looking up at the meteor shower. the "community vodka bottle". three drunk pitiful fools sitting on a porch crying over the deaths of their dogs. stopping in to see a friend working the night shift at the grocery store. waiting in the parking lot for cute bag boys to get off from work. kidnapping them and forcing them to go get drunk with us. the night ms. b and i decided that waiting on ms. k to get off of work and come get our drunk asses to take us to the annual party in B's backyard was no longer an option. so we packed a bag, toilet paper for her, wine for us both and off we walked. who knows how many miles away he lived from me. lucky for us we called to let him know of the "great plan of 1998". lucky for us a car was on it's way to get us. lucky for us our walk only lasted a few minutes. every time the warm weather begins to make its presence known i can taste that summer all over again. taste it like the wine from that night. taste it like the hot dogs we roasted in my back yard at one of the weekly parties. taste it like the sweetness left on your lips from your first clove cigarette. i can feel it like the wet trampoline i passed out on drunk, face down, to feel the cold on my cheek. i walk outside into the warm night air, close my eyes, and it's all around me. every memory. every laugh. even the stupid drama with josh and G. i taste it, feel it, remember it and crave it this time every year. thoughts of quitting my job again and having an irresponsible and carefree three months of nothing and everything fill my mind.