On the warm side

OK, it’s not warm, it’s fucking HOT outside. You know it’s hot when the news, at 5:30 in the MORNING, says the heat index is at 93 degrees. Of course my heat index, which is very accurate thank you very much, read it at more like a hundred and ninety three degrees. How do I know this? Because at 3:30 this afternoon when I walked down Market Street in a black sleeveless shirt and khaki capris in black flip flops that were sticking to the pavement because they were MELTING, my internal thermometer read about a BILLION degrees and so since it’s cooler in the morning I deduced that the weather guy was a moron and obviously left off the 1.

I really shouldn’t complain, I sleep in my air conditioned home and then get in my air conditioned car to get to the air conditioned train and then to my air conditioned office. But I do walk a half mile each way to the office and it’s in the sun and it’s really hot so I feel like I can complain a little bit.

We should have Heat Days. You should be able to call out “hot.” Sort of like how we have snow days and sick days. Of course if you’re adding Hot Days you should also add in “I Have Nothing to Wear” days and the occasional, “My Hair Looks Like Crap So Can We Please Reschedule the Videoconference” Days. Ahhh.. I think the heat is making me delusional. Ooooh, I wonder if I can at least get a parasol on eBay. That would really help keep the sun off on my walk to work.

Round Two

Train Guy and I are headed to the Catskills on Friday to spend the weekend with some friends of his at their summer place. (Yes, I know I’m lucky that we have friends with nice vacation homes in various locales that we can use and not pay one red cent for.) He just forwarded me an e-mail from his friend saying, “And don’t forget to tell E to bring her swimming suit, obviously.”

Oh God, not this again. I’m sorry but it was not a good experience the first time when it was just the possibility of getting into a suit in front of some of my oldest friends and their KIDS but now it’s in front of a bunch of nice, firm 25 year olds… lovely… shoot me now.

I really am generally not an insecure person. I really am happy with most things including my flat ass and smaller boobs but parading around in, essentially, my underwear and bra is not very appealing. Call me crazy but stripping down into a swimming suit with girls, YES THEY ARE GIRLS, that are seven and eight years younger than me when I’ve had seven more years of gravity pulling various body parts South and to build up more cellulite gives me ulcers. But I will do it. Mainly because I don’t want them to know I’m insecure about it. At least let them learn from looking at me; START working out more NOW before it all heads south!! I’ll have to remember to tell them that and use my body to point out specific examples of why. I won’t tell them about the hairs that will grow out of their chins. I’ll let them find that out on their own.

Quotes

Best friends:

“Hey, I know we haven’t spoken in ages. Nothing going on with me, I know you’re busy but I just wanted to tell you that I saw your ex-boyfriend “A” a few minutes ago and DEAR GOD he looks awful! I mean, like a dead, bloated hippo awful! Not fat, we’re talking bloated here!! OK, that was it I know you’re busy. Talk to you soon. Love you, bye.”

Neighbor:

“Don’t worry, the dogs will be fine here while you’re away for the weekend. No really, they’ll be so happy here. We’re going to play and go for walks and snuggle on the couch together. I’ll send you pictures to Train Guy's phone and you can call everyday.”

True Love:

“Hold on a second, you have this one black hair coming out of your chin. Let me get the tweezers. (ouch!) Done! Wow. Please don’t ever tell anyone I just did that.”

Too late….

Note to self:

Remember that you took a B Complex vitamin with breakfast and do not freak out when you pee a weird shade of neon yellow. You are not suddenly radioactive nor are you going to die from a strange, tropical urinary disease.