5/27/2005
It's Getting Hot in Here
S-s-s-s...sss.s...soooo........h-h-h-h-hotttttt.
Living in Portland has totally disabled my body's ability to handle hot weather. I grew up in a desert climate where summers would consistently get over 105 degrees, but since I've moved here I've started stripping off layers of clothing once the thermometer goes north of 65. And not "strip" in the sexy way, but as in "ewww...the pot-bellied love-handled guy is trying to remove his sausage casing-like shirt."
It's been over 90 degrees for the past few days. (It's been 93 degrees for the past 4 hours, and right now it's 7:00 at night...) Our house has giant windows that face west and south, including the long, room-length window in my office (which is upstairs, natch). We have no air conditioning. It's like I'm living in a terrarium.
I really dislike being smarmy. That sticky, gross, sweaty feeling you can't seem to get away from when it's hot and (especially) humid is just wholly unpleasant. That's why I've made a vow to never, never live in the mid-west or east coast. There's nothing worse than living in a climate that's so humid that even when you emerge fresh and clean from the shower, the second you open the curtain you feel like someone has hit you with a moist bag of dirty socks.
Sleeping in heat is virtually impossible, too. Especially when you're sharing a bed with a wife who somehow generates so much heat you can smelt iron on her. Suddenly you're 5 years old again with the whole "YOU'RE ON MY SIDE! GET THAT LEG AWAY FROM ME!!" And she somehow still sleeps under the sheets and down comforter. The other tricky part is trying to sleep without the sheet at all. For some reason, you just feel so unsecured without that sheet. Like you'll roll out of bed without its protection. And then every hour you wake up damp, soaking in your own sweat...which is especially terrible when you have a feather pillow, because feather pillows have the ability to extract every last bit of moisture from your body. (By the way...how do ducks handle hot weather? They must be friggen burning up! And how do we even get down feathers? As far as I know, down is only on little baby chicks. Are there fields of naked baby ducks wandering around at the pillow and comforter factory?)
Anyway, I don't have a point to this. The heat has affected my already paltry ability to write a cohesive narrative. Anyway, I already checked out of writing this after I satisfied my creative narcissism by working in the phrase "smelt iron on her," so I'll just smugly slink off to stand in front of the open refrigerator.
Living in Portland has totally disabled my body's ability to handle hot weather. I grew up in a desert climate where summers would consistently get over 105 degrees, but since I've moved here I've started stripping off layers of clothing once the thermometer goes north of 65. And not "strip" in the sexy way, but as in "ewww...the pot-bellied love-handled guy is trying to remove his sausage casing-like shirt."
It's been over 90 degrees for the past few days. (It's been 93 degrees for the past 4 hours, and right now it's 7:00 at night...) Our house has giant windows that face west and south, including the long, room-length window in my office (which is upstairs, natch). We have no air conditioning. It's like I'm living in a terrarium.
I really dislike being smarmy. That sticky, gross, sweaty feeling you can't seem to get away from when it's hot and (especially) humid is just wholly unpleasant. That's why I've made a vow to never, never live in the mid-west or east coast. There's nothing worse than living in a climate that's so humid that even when you emerge fresh and clean from the shower, the second you open the curtain you feel like someone has hit you with a moist bag of dirty socks.
Sleeping in heat is virtually impossible, too. Especially when you're sharing a bed with a wife who somehow generates so much heat you can smelt iron on her. Suddenly you're 5 years old again with the whole "YOU'RE ON MY SIDE! GET THAT LEG AWAY FROM ME!!" And she somehow still sleeps under the sheets and down comforter. The other tricky part is trying to sleep without the sheet at all. For some reason, you just feel so unsecured without that sheet. Like you'll roll out of bed without its protection. And then every hour you wake up damp, soaking in your own sweat...which is especially terrible when you have a feather pillow, because feather pillows have the ability to extract every last bit of moisture from your body. (By the way...how do ducks handle hot weather? They must be friggen burning up! And how do we even get down feathers? As far as I know, down is only on little baby chicks. Are there fields of naked baby ducks wandering around at the pillow and comforter factory?)
Anyway, I don't have a point to this. The heat has affected my already paltry ability to write a cohesive narrative. Anyway, I already checked out of writing this after I satisfied my creative narcissism by working in the phrase "smelt iron on her," so I'll just smugly slink off to stand in front of the open refrigerator.
Shameless Self-promotion
In other Todd Werkhoven news, I have an essay running in the Portland Tribune about that whole radio station debacle I complained about a few posts down. To read it, you can click here.
