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The First Boyfriend and Lemon Gelato Wednesday

Today was already feeling like a really good day. Last night, for the first time in a long time, I stayed up late writing. I'm usually a day writer (have a cup of coffee and breakfast and then go write). But last night, I stayed up until 1 thinking about a scene and filling it out some more. And then I woke up this morning and wrote more. I didn't get frustrated or bored. I just kept writing.

And then, finally, after six weeks of being baked alive, my landlord finally fixed my apartment's air conditioning. I live in an old house and my apartment is the whole second floor with a private staircase up into our space. There were times where by five each day, I would have to go sit in a cool bath while drinking a beer or ice water.

It's cool enough now that cooking finally seems like it could be a part of my life. Not some insurmountable punishment. So to celebrate, I made a batch of lemon gelato. I used this New York Times Cooking recipe if you're interested: http://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/11954-lemon-gelato. (If you are into medium lemon taste, add the zest of two whole lemons.) I checked on my ice cream maker and watched bunnies round around in my neighbor's yard. And then watched my neighbor's tiny Jack Russell terrier with his paws on the glass watch the bunnies.

After all that, I found out my friend (and former classmate) Scott Fenton had published "The First Boyfriend" in Green Mountains Review. One of the things I liked most about this story is that it was able to find such a good mix of funny and mean and a little sad. Here are a few of my favorite moments (although really, if you're reading this, you should just read the whole thing):

"Before time began, somebody must have told the first boyfriend he looked good in a tank top."

"Finally, here was the right boyfriend for Dean, an empty container that he could pour himself into, plus the sixth boyfriend had maybe two moves in bed and seemed utterly amazed by anything Dean tried that was the slightest bit non-vanilla."

"Dean strode across the kitchen, saying, “I’d hardly call six weeks of study abroad living there.” He picked up a halo headband from the kitchen table and lowered it onto his head."