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These gals look perky and sassy in their summer attire. This is not how I look.


Hot town, summer in the city 

Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty 

Been down, isn’t it a pity 

Doesn’t seem to be a shadow in the city 


All around people looking half dead

Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head 

(John Sebastian) 



Zomigosh. It is so freaking hot. I have been barely capable of monosyllabic speech, much less able to string coherent sentences together.   

You know, I try to find the good in things. I try to look at the silver lining, see the cup half-full, see the silk purse and not the sow’s ear. Sometimes, though, I just hate stuff…like everyone else.   

This post is a tribute to the depth and breadth of my utter loathing of summer.   

I hate sweating.   

I hate the way the polyester in my bra seems to soak up all that sweat and just slide around, supporting nothing.   

I hate how my own legs stick to one another.   

I hate humidity.   

I hate not being able to do my own hair without my hands sticking to every bloody strand and bungling it all up for me.   

I hate that the instant I put foundation on, it starts sliding off my face.   

I hate how the heat saps my will to live (or to do anything, really).   

I hate going outside into the hellish sun beating down on me.   

I hate that the instant I walk into the sun, my super-fair skin starts to burn.   

I hate those creepy heat mirages.   

I hate how all the color leaches out of everything in the summer heat.   

I hate that heat rises (we live in a second story apartment with NO cross ventilation).   

I hate that central air conditioning is not standard in every habitable place.   

I hate, hate, hate being hot.   

I hate, hate, hate summer.   

(Whimper, whimper, whine, moan, cry).   

Okay! Done whining for the moment. I am going to nuzzle close to the Carter-era window unit the management company was kind enough to bring by yesterday and install. Even a brand-new unit wouldn’t be able to cool off our apartment to my satisfaction. I am just grateful that we have one – and that, Carter-era or not, it’s working very hard over there in the corner to cool it down in here.   

Sigh. Is it September yet???   



Come have a look through my kaleidoscope eyes. Come walk with me, as I make my way down the Path of Mastery (complete with fits and starts and pitstops and potholes). Our very impermanence is what makes us burn so brightly, and struggle so valiantly, and feel so deeply – it’s what makes us seize the day, and the moment. Come in, settle in, share a moment with me.

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"Who are YOU?" said the Caterpillar. This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, "I--I hardly know, sir, just at present-- at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then." (Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Chapter 5)