Favorite Arizona Fall Memories

Yesterday was no September 22nd. It was muggy. I wore scalloped green shorts to work and a t-shirt to The Goodman at night. The play we saw (Continuity by Bess Wohl) was about climate change, and I couldn't help but feel extra sticky on the walk home.

This is Arizona fall. I had improv rehearsal on Sundays at noon. I often took the holy day as an opportunity to buy myself a Starbucks treat--an iced pumpkin mocha latte. I would hold the cold drink in one hand and steady my handlebars with the other. The little circular tower atop the Fine Arts building. I would look out that window and worry about Act One, Scene Three. Puhg and I wore pajamas to get half price froyo at our favorite place on campus. Or he picked me up for my lunch break during full-day rehearsal for my thesis play. The girls on my comedy team went to that old ranch for a haunted house. Bug couldn't stop talking about her new boyfriend she didn't know if she liked or not. Shell and I had to keep doing the knowing glance game. When the streets were suddenly nutso and I remembered about football. I went to a weird speech tournament alone. I remember being full of Costco muffins and walking up a hill into the parking lot. I rarely asked, "What am I doing here?" I wasn't often sure what to prioritize. I went from the soft white carpet of a condo to orange concrete in a House of V. The sun seemed so powerful I never believed it would go down. The first Tuesday night dramaturgy class that ended in the dark confused me. I didn't have a bike light yet.