Cinco de Swine Flu

Ah, May Day--the day that inspired the panicked shout of pilots going into tailspins. Also, a warning that we're sneaking up on the hot summer weather, which I'm not really ready for after five consecutive summers that were mild. Or, let's face it--cold! Only in Maine could I wake up in July freezing because I left the window open. It's not going to be like that here--as I recall we'd have it hit the 90s and stay there for months.

Also, Cinco de Mayo is coming up, and a group is getting together in town to celebrate by going to an Irish bar (they do the Mexican bar thing on St. Pats--it's all about beating the crowd of douchebags that fill the bars on those respective holidays). Of course, the last two years we got around the douchebag problem by hosting Cinco de Mayo parties, meaning there's now a large supply of sombreros and handlebar mustaches making the rounds. I hosted last year, and it was a pretty good time--though it sounds like no one's doing it in Portland this time. End of an era.