Some like it hot

...but I DON'T.

Since summer started (which starts mid-May for me, since the conditioning of summer vacation for 20 years of my life), Mother Nature has maintained a pretty pleasant temperature. A few showers here and there, a couple humid days in between. All in all, I can't complain. Until now.

Last week, meteorologists explained we'd be reaching the mid- to upper-80s. That's great for all you central air folk, and perpetual beach junkies; but what about us full-time cube dwellers? We're forced to wear business casual -- Or, here, jeans, as compensation for all the economy business causing us to get pay cuts and lose our 401K matching).

No problem. They've got AC, you say? That's right. I'll deal with walking to and from the car. nbd.



BUTWAITDERSMORE.

It's not so much going to work that bugs me. In fact, I don't mind because I'm getting paid to sit in air conditioning all day. The problem is, when I have to head home.

As mentioned before, most of you know I live in an upper unit apartment in a very, very old house. Without air conditioning.

Last year, I bit the bullet and bought a cheap AC unit, to use when Lucifer decides to vacation in SE Wisconsin a few times each summer. It's been a godsend.

Problem is, the heat started Monday morning ... and I didn't get a chance to set up the unit until Monday afternoon. I cranked it on high until going to bed, hoping it'd at least cool my bedroom a few degrees. The thing rattles like someone beat it with a sledgehammer, so I decided to turn it off before falling asleep.

Terrible, terrible idea.

I woke up at least three times, drenched in sweat. Then I got out of bed in the morning pissed off at the world for being so EFFING HOT. I didn't want coffee. I didn't want eggs. I didn't want anything having anything to do with warm. I didn't even want to shower unless the water felt like icicles.

Tuesday: I go to work, come home and turn the AC on. I put up a sheet between my kitchen and living room.

The cold air comes from my bedroom, and some will make it into the living room; but in order to cool my kitchen, it would have to go through the living room and front hallway first. That's a lost cause, making my bathroom and kitchen unbearably hot. For some reason, all of the heat from the day is not only trapped in that insulated box of a room, the oven/stove puts out some kind of ridiculous heat from the pilot light. (I checked repeatedly, all the knobs are set to "off." And yeah, it's probably not safe.) Yesterday my kitchen and bathroom sat at about a balmy 120 degrees. I'm not exaggerating.

Anywho, I stick to the BR and living room as my main areas. Don't get me wrong, it's still about 75-80, but some of the humidity gets eaten up with the cold air.

I slept with the AC on all night. The rattling didn't even bother me, because I knew my internal body temperature wasn't rising above 100 degrees. In fact, after awhile the rattling turned into white noise, and seemed to lull me to sleep.

Another great thing? I don't pay for electricity. That means the AC can run without any financial consequences. Of course, I still limit use to days when the dew point matches the temperature, and the temperature's above 80 degrees.

DIrty mouth? Clean it up.

Many of you who know me in person, know I have a tendency to drop a few eff-bombs here and there, On occasion, I'll sprinkle my conversation with synonyms for feces, Hades and, err, dammit. But I love love love dropping eff-bombs.

These verbal onslaughts are okay in front of friends; but mixed company sometimes doesn't appreciate my colorful vocabulary. This is especially true if I'm around kids at a Brewer game, or hanging out at the zoo. So lately I've been trying to incorporate some more unique verbiage in place of swearing all over the place.

Generally, I try to replace any f*ck with "eff." As in, "EFFFFFFF, I just deleted file full of pictures on my computer."

Besides substituting that word, here's what else I've got so far:

GODDAMMIT = God... bless it.
WHATTHEFUCK = For crying out loud; what the what?! (Thanks Liz Lemon.); Really.
FUCKME = Oh dear; You gotta be strokin' me.
SHUTTHEFUCKUP = OMG; Shut the front door.

Any others?

Birthday suits

Last night, I finished reading Naked by David Sedaris. It only took me about a month (High five! to myself.) The reason? It's effing hilarious.

That's not to say the main character, Dave, isn't flawed. This dude's got some of narcissistic, selfish problems my friend. But he's laugh-out-loud (yeah, I spelled it) funny, regardless. I think one of the reasons might be that he's still so relatable, and tells the reader like it is, no holds barred.

The characters he describes and stories he tells (working in a mental institution when he was 16, hitchhiking across the US, harvesting apples in Oregon) make you laugh and cringe at the same time, mostly because you probably shouldn't laugh, but still are.

You might be asking yourself, why is the book title "Naked?" I wondered the same thing until I got to the last, self-titled chapter.

After ordering a nudist colony brochure as a joke for his brother, Sedaris receives the pamphlet and actually considers booking a week-long reservation. He's apprehensive, mainly because he doesn't even walk around his house without shoes, let alone without clothes. Over the course of a week, he finally becomes comfortable walking around a (for lack of a better term) nudist trailer park. The first couple days wearing a t-shirt and shoes for some cover ... then finally exposing himself for all to see.

A nice way to end a book, where he finally developed to be comfortable in his own skin, I guess. But it got me thinking ... what if the entire world were a nudist colony?

First things first; no clothes! That means, no one would worry about buying updated clothing, and I wouldn't have to replace my ever-expansive wardrobe. (I'm a lady, what of it.) No need impressing others with the latest fashion crap. Wearing shoes and socks without clothes might look kind of ridiculous though.

It might get cold, so I figure I'd plant myself in some kind of Arizona- or California-based colony. Sand might be a problem.

Usually you have to worry about washing your hands after touching things; but what if you're putting your bare ass all over the place? Sedaris' colony recommended carrying a towel everywhere. For sanitary reasons, I would too.

But the other issue I'd have, would be seeing other people naked. A geriatric WWI veteran? Or, a 40-year-old mother of six? Yikes. Once you get used to it though, I suppose it'd be common place. It'd be like Faces of Death, where you couldn't look away -- but after awhile, all the train wrecks start to look the same.

Initially I'd be nervous because I'd be pretty self-conscious of baring all in front of them. Honestly though, I love not wearing clothes.

When I wake up in the morning, I generally prance around in my underoos for a good hour. I start by making breakfast, sometimes in the buff. It's one of the perks of living alone.

But that's really only in the privacy of my own home. I can handle seeing myself in the nude, but I'm not ready to see the rest of you.