My roommate Jason hates it, too, as evidenced by the following series of texts & the fact that we opted to take a cab home from U Street today rather than stand in the sun for 10 minutes until the bus arrived:
Kaaaaaaaaaaaaate. It's hoooooooorrible outside. I just got out the door and now my everything is sweaty.I find Mother Nature's other elements to be aggravating but largely manageable: when it snows, bundle up; when it rains, carry an umbrella. But what options are there in gabillion-degree heat? There are only so many layers of clothes to remove! Stubbornly, I've also been known to refuse to wear summer-appropriate clothing, occasionally donning Pete Wentz-style pants in the heat of July. Alas, yesterday I caved in & bought shorts, which is both shameful & liberating. I don't really know how to wear shorts, & I am beyond convinced that they make me look like a minivan mom - but my legs can breathe now, offering me minimal but essential respite from the heat.
Why is this bus not air conditioned? Why am I so sweaty? Why won't the heat go away? Whiiiiiiine.
I need some new genes, stat.
Still, people who enjoy heat - who like it, thrive in it, crave it, love it - sort of make me sick. I don't understand. What part of bathing in your own sweat is enjoyable? What part of "If I don't have a glass of water every 10 steps, I'm going to dehydrate" is likable? Who seeks out suffocation? Sunburn? Sweat?
That's the key to my dislike, really. Sweating. I am, admittedly, like, the sweatiest person on the goddamn planet, which makes for regularly unpleasant summer days - hair plastered to my head, weird patterns on the backs of my solid-colored shirts, etcetera. Maybe I have a problem. Maybe Jason's is onto something in that text. Maybe it all comes down to genetics. Those among us blessed with being relatively unsweaty can withstand the heat - & perhaps even enjoy it. But for those of us whose pores deem it appropriate to relentlessly marinate us in sweat, every day feels like a public bath. Everyone's all, "It's not that bad," & I'm all, "I've just lost half my fluids & I look like I just crawled out of the Gulf oil spill." (I'm painting a beautiful visual image for you here, I know.)
.....sigh.
OK, fine. There are a couple things I like about summer, but they're, like, tangential. They're honorable mentions to make me feel better about losing the genetic summer lottery. But because I don't want to be a total downer, I'll indulge. They include:
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsQksI2rHQiAQJRatQHRATbEERVIxgaR9RNysj6hWuFJp0fjBMvulS0W-yL6pv7urzDEqKDOCiwYPPKJK1XAFDWONfL4jzoZ1dLBqY3WdyQMN3Fjv5qJEnBkvWiqrWZy5VOlWGKGr93gEi/s400/RaybanBoys.jpg)
Scruffy men in Raybans.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigBt2gOkPhltnTL_Wb_PeaE888nGp-vkzUaDq5yWiozQtzlR6dklTF2DgsrQCax9CWiYkNW-7pm4v4Z3gJMuG06uMtt34zRafxVWnIKSnrA0XRKh8kqoNUvVuwmLRHILnuoQvdeG7wwOy0/s400/MANGO.jpg)
Mango margaritas at Mixtec. The menu listed them as being "MANGO!," so we felt the need to yell it enthusiastically every time we discussed their deliciosity.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnjuo77fMKfUPJ_LA1R_ah15tuZcVCWs8DMLM3oegysaTTx-qmNXzFgNWvr6BaGhz-EWdoa4fMnpDCxA0zb59PTZVMey5pTRZAb86bFO5JLoIw9yfwuYm8Z3TMNjcW3V5HTibzAqf8d4eR/s400/WTF.jpg)
And, of course, the occasional summer outfit, spotted in a CVS, that makes it all feel just a liiiiittle bit more worth it. Maybe I'd like the heat more if I started sporting dip-dyed one-pieces? I bet that's the key.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to hoarding cold air like it's Y2K & not leaving my apartment until absolutely necessary.