Tuesday, June 23, 2009

It's Too Darn Hot


I've always been a strange sort of kid, for many reasons that don't need to be delved into, but mainly because I have never looked forward to summer. Born and raised in St. Louis, I have never been deceived by the picturesque scenes of sipping lemonade on the wraparound porch, or picnics in the park. It's simply too darn hot here for any of that. Much too hot for me at least. So when the severe storms came through bringing in some brisk temperatures, everyone here got excited for a lush and beautiful summer. Always the realist though, I knew not to set my hopes too high. As always, I was right. Just the next day after the last thunderstorm, a heat advisory went into effect. So did my hair spray and scrunch gel.

It has been my assertion that I just was not quite properly equipped for the heat, especially the St. Louis summer heat. The St. Louis heat, for those not familiar, is a rare and grotesque blend of high humidity and high heat temperatures. It has been known to make the most perky of people, a force to be reckoned with, and the most beautiful, mere mortals. What it does to me is not a sight for youthful eyes. My hair usually poofs out 17 times it's normal volume (yes, it can get bigger than it already is), I become short of breath and slur my words, and my skin becomes a little more pale because at any moment I am susceptible to passing out. For the most part anyone can get anything out of me because I simply do not and cannot be bothered in these sorts of conditions.

What's probably mos funny is how this sort of heat can literally drive people to work just to be out of the sauna that is their backyard. Being a seasoned St. Louis summer survivor, I make all the right precautions to get me through the day, and it basically starts and ends with the wardrobe. Unfortunately, as an official working girl, this now means compromising my ideas of "style." Even more unfortunate is the fact that I am already limited in tops to logo bearing polos, button ups, and Cutter & Bucks. My rule of thumb to surviving the heat is wearing nothing longer than 3/4 lengths. So out go the button ups, and work slacks. This basically leaves me in a bind since I am a slacks, button up, and cardigan kind of working gal. So what have I resolved to? You guessed it, the Bermuda shorts and various relatives of capris (not since the seventh grade have I ever succomed to the clothing hazard that is a genuine article capri pant). All of which I had to rescue from the give away pile.

I do not like the person I am with the heat; I am barely recognizable. A hair style birds mistake for a nesting place, glistening skin, and eyes that can't come to a central focus. And now clothing that throws me back to my teenage angst. That's when I realized it: the heat really does make people do crazy things. It morphs them into that horrible teenager that once roamed the living room glued to TRL. So in that case, until the heat advisories go away, you know where to find me-in my basement room, blaring my music, and not taking the time to speak to anyone. Hey, at least there's air conditioning there though.

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