The way we whir

The cicadas are emerging. I saw my first one inching along the sidewalk a couple nights ago, and went, “AUGH, what the-” until I remembered how ugly and miserable cicadas look when they’re crawling out of the ground after 17 years. I was in D.C. for the last period of cicada madness. I remember these things: I was living in Silver Spring with Mark. Deanna came to visit and pronounced cicada as “cicadeeya”. A morning show host ate a bit of cicada during a live radio broadcast. I spent a lot of time driving around in a Toyota Corrolla with Kirsten, Laura, Tasia and Emily listening to “The First Cut is the Deepest” because it was on the radio all the damn time. Here is a post from May 2004.

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