Some
people get a thrill out of summer weather. Beach-going, planning for ultimate frisbee days in advance, and relaxing in the sun wearing half the amount of what you normally
wear are things one can only really do in summer. From these things I understand the thrill, and yet I am not one of those
people. Just five minutes ago had the thought that “anyone who says they ‘looove’
hot weather is a self-hating or delusional moron”. It is currently 89 degrees
out there (‘out there’ being the scary hot place I did not go today) but it feels like 94 because of this terrible
terrible thing that does not exist on the west coast: humidity.
I will
repeat part of that because apparently no one understands: IT IS NOT HUMID IN
SEATTLE. Got it? Just because it rains a lot ('a lot' being a relative term) does not mean
there is gaseous water suspended in the air. If there is water in Seattle it is
on the GROUND, WHERE IT SHOULD BE. Hot weather makes people cranky enough (or “complainy”,
as my friend Seyoun described himself today) without purposelessly adding more
heat and sweaty wetness. (Say that ten times fast.)
I am
realizing now that I have never actually had to spend an entire summer in a
place where there was actual summer. I have never lived anywhere where an air
conditioner was a necessity. I have rarely woken up and thought “oh damn… it’s
already too hot today”. I do not know if I can handle it. My
German/Irish/Norwegian complexion is adopting a semi-permanent pink hue. My
body does not know how to properly control its own temperature, so nothing on
me is sweating with the curious exception of my eyebrows. Inexplicably hot
weather does not deter me from hot foods, and I made mashed potatoes for
dinner. My only consolation is the fact that mosquitoes find my body abhorrent,
as evidenced by years of Girl Scout Camp attendance sans bites.
Fortunately
for me a beacon of hope is on the horizon: Thursday. Oh, sweet Thursday, I
count the days until you and I will be reunited. I cannot shake from my mind
the prospect of your partly clouded self. Your 61 degrees could not be more
devoutly wished. Alas! If only cruel Tuesday and Wednesday did not stand between
you and I… But we will be together soon, my love, and it will be a most
blissful and joyous day, most likely involving long pants.
To
think of the years I did not properly appreciate 60s and light rain… Enjoy them
like I never did, my dear, and I hope to hear from you soon.
Love,
Lola
