Seasons

Reader alert: I complain in this post. About things that I can't control and that don't really matter. Okay, so I complain more than usual.

I've never been good at regulating my body temperature. It's always either too hot or too cold. Okay, so not always. Between 74 and 78 degrees, I'm comfortable. That's about it.

So, you'd think, wouldn't you, that living in southern California, where supposedly the temperature is always perfect, would be ideal, right?

And, to be honest, it often is. We live in a very pleasant, um, environment. It's difficult to complain that the weather throughout the year rarely dips below 45. Difficult, not impossible.

See, I spent my high school years in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and my college years in Michigan. As much as I hate being cold, I'm used to it. I've been forced to admit to myself that I enjoy winter. I don't enjoy the feeling of nose hairs freezing, or carrying coats around for five months of the year, or the wind that cuts through your skin and makes you feel like dying, while ruining your hair at the same time. Death and awful hair -- who needs that?

But the thing is, with winter, everybody's in the same position. You can glance at a perfect stranger, cupping their coffee mug, desperately hoping that whatever's in it will stay warm for five more minutes until they get into a heated building, and share a grimace. Everybody complains about the weather together. It's very community-building, actually.

And I was used to it. I expect it. Christmas was so difficult last year, watching people drive home with trees attached to the tops of their cars, with their windows rolled down. We didn't wear coats when we picked out our Christmas tree. There wasn't even the anticipation of snow. 

Alright, so I'm a little kid. Admitted.

What I really miss right now is FALL. I've heard it said that anybody whose favorite season is fall lives in the midwest. Well, not this girl. Not now, anyway. And it's killing me. So many people on facebook these days are getting excited about sweaters and Starbucks' pumpkin spice lattes and cinnamon doughnuts and apple cider. I WANT SWEATERS! And apple cider! And socks! Oh, I miss socks.

See, in Michigan, the most trying part of the year was always late March/April. You want it to be spring, you expect it to be spring, about twice a week it looks and smells and feels like spring... and then it snows fourteen inches and you're stuck in a classroom with no coat, because two hours ago, it was 55 degrees. 

Well, April is to Michigan what September is to California. 

This past weekend hasn't been that bad. But just a week ago, it hit the hottest point of the year. See, September consistently presents the hottest point of the year for Claremont. Now, most people hear "hot" and "California" and assume, oh, it can't be that bad. You're coastal. We are, in fact, an hour away from coastal. Really, unless you live within 20 minutes of the beach, you're pretty much screwed any time it gets over 90. That nice breeze off the ocean? Forget about it. And in an apartment without air conditioning, it's wretched. 

(See above where I explain how incapable my body is at regulating its own temperature.)

So if our candles are melting in our living room (which they were, just a few days ago), I'm miserable.

In fact, the words I used most frequently were: IT IS SO HOT I AM GOING TO DIE.

Thankfully, we have a window ac unit in our bedroom, which made sleeping bearable. And the rest of the day, too, since when it's that hot out, we pretty much just stay in there.

So, while the rest of you are snuggling in your sweaters and sipping your apple cider and actually enjoying wearing long pants (which I can't button up anyway), I will highlight the differences in our lives by bringing to you...

Wendy's Life Savers in the Heat

This might not be useful to you for several months. In that case, feel free to ignore or chastise me for whining. Or just bookmark this page, so when you are so hot you're going to die, you can get some handy dandy tips.

1. The bedroom. Or anywhere else where there's air conditioning. It's cooler there. Just don't leave.

2. Other forms of escape. Coffee shops, the grocery store, etc. all work pretty well for this. Especially coffee shops, for some reason.

3. Elevating feet. This may only work for some of you. The pregnant ones. Especially if your feet swell to four times their size if it gets above 83 degrees. You always hear about swollen feet in pregnancy, but you never think it will happen to you. Until you feel all tingly and bloated, then look down and realize that somebody switched out your tiny feet with a circus clown's. But elevating them actually works. All the books say this: "be sure to put your feet up," which makes it sound like you should just take some time to relax. It's more than that. Get those babies above your heart, for chris'sake. I've even been sleeping with my feet raised on a pillow for the past month.

4. Cold showers. And/or tubs of cold water to soak your feet in, if that works for you. The other night, I filled a tub with water as cold as the tap would go and sat with my feet in it for almost twenty minutes. I swear I lost at least a full shoe size. It was also funny to laugh at Eric, who came to join me, and who, for the first time in either of our lives, was more sensitive to cold than I.

5. Nudity. For reals. Why pile on fabric?

6. Eric. Not really mainstream, I'm afraid. But he's swell. He'll do things like make me dinner when I refuse to leave the bedroom or the shower.

Now, I'm going to go look up pictures of changing leaves online and feel sorry for my lot in life. Naturally.