You guys don't have to tell me I'm a wimp--I already know. But, seriously, when the outdoor temp gets above, say 75, it makes me want to cry. Unless I'm at the beach. Then I'm ok with it.
My dad told me--as if it was no big thing--that the weather at home (where Daniel and I are going this week) will be reaching 99-100 degrees Fahrenheit. I've been crying myself to sleep at night over 81 degrees. Thank god my parents have a basement, I guess. Barf.
Seriously, make fun of me all you want, but if you got sunburns and heat rashes at the mere suggestion of sunlight, you'd be a sad panda, too. If I had my own private lake, shaded by trees, I'd probably welcome this weather. Last I checked, all I have is a bathtub with lots of obstinate calcium deposits--which I do plan on visiting it this afternoon. Perhaps filled with ice cubes.
This "holiday weekend" has been pretty nice, actually. Went down to the houseboat yesterday and had an impromptu shindig with a bunch of family that had the same beat-the-heat idea. We made sun tea, read books, went swimming, and I got to hold some babies. So, the best afternoon ever. Today I have the apartment to myself for a few hours (Daniel and Rob are doing* science at a coffee shop), which is nice**, but I'm working, so it's kind of your average Monday instead of a beach-party-3-day-weekend-with-bonfires-and-boozing (or however people celebrate Labor Day). At present, I am re-reading The Solitaire Mystery by Jostein Gaarder--more of that Literary Comfort Food. I haven't been in the mood to read anything new, though I couldn't tell you why. There's a list of books that sound hella fantastic just hangin' out in my googledocs, but I've been picking old favorites instead. If you haven't read The Solitaire Mystery, by the way, you definitely should. Sophie's World was Gaarder's super famous book, but I think Solitaire is his masterpiece.
Oh! I did read a new book recently! St. Lucy's Home For Girls Raised By Wolves, Karen Russell's short story collection. I think her stories were beautiful and haunting, but the endings tended to be a little ...abrupt? It's possible that she just likes the sort of ending that doesn't wrap up a single thing, and that's cool, but I find an entire book of endings like that to be a tad frustrating. I think variety is a perk that you don't often get in a collection of one author's shorts. St. Lucy's comes with my recommendation, but I would suggest reading one story at a time, either in conjunction with a few other books of short stories, or just whenever you feel like you need a lovely break from that tome you're slogging through.
Also, did my nails yesterday. I've been digging this half-moon look for a while (first saw it via the cherry blossom girl), so I went and bought little circle stickers--I used Avery Reinforcement Labels--and took my nail polish down to the houseboat with me. Here's an additional link to the tutorial on The Beauty Department, which is actually a pretty neat blog (high praise, considering I rarely wear more than eye liner and spend precisely 0 minutes on my hair most days), aaaaand then my poorly done rendition:
Lucky for me, the camera phone quality of the photo has mostly disguised the fact that they look, um, less than professional. That being said, it was pretty fun! PS the QFC on Broadway in Cap Hill has the worst cosmetics department ever. Look elsewhere for your nail polish needs.
Alrighty, now that this blog post is twelve years long or so, I'm gonna peace out. Time for work-outs and an ice bath.
*or, more accurately, reading about
**whilst alone, I tend to be less talkative and--sometimes, on the rarest of occasions--more productive