Marika Malaea

faithful marauder + fake royal

Sweltering On Planet Me

with 18 comments

Planet Me

Planet Me

I’m doing what I like to call ‘extreme blogging.’ It’s when you write a blog post under extreme conditions, like during a blizzard or while base-jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge. My extreme conditions include the following:

Heat. The oppressive, angry type reserved for people in The South. My cervix is sweating.

Humidity. The kind that makes you, and everyone around you, a sweaty anger ball with nothing to lose. Hide the weapons.

Cast of Doom. Everything I can think of doing to cool down is a logistical nightmare, like showering (I can’t make it into my clawfoot tub) or anything involving the restorative powers of water. I can take a luxurious sponge bath while hopping on one leg. Wow, just thinking about that instantly relaxes me.

Wardrobe Malfunction. I don’t own any shorts. I mean, I don’t like my legs and this is Washington – shorts are up there with velvet capes and bejewelled thongs:  highly unnecessary. So now I’m just wandering around in my underwear like a toddler, sweating my knees and elbows off, and overstating the obvious: ‘IT’S HOT. THIS SUCKS. YOU SUCK. IT’S HOT.’

Stairway to Heaven. I’m sorry, but it has to be repeated in this weather: 42 STAIRS TO MY APARTMENT. They don’t get easier the heavier and hotter you get, that’s all I’m saying.

So even though each shift in my chair sends fire up my back, and each keystroke is an unwelcome burst of energy that brings beads of sweat to my eyelids, I’m here. Blogging. Listening to Harry Nilsson. Sweating through my upper lip, my accessories, my split ends. I shed a few tears, because Harry is like that, until I realized they were as hot as the fucking sun. This weather can fuck with my glands, but it will! not! fuck! with Harry Nilsson. I cherish those moments of depressing reflection with Harry and his beautiful, sad-ass music. So now I’m crying on the inside like an inebriated clown, or any kind of clown, for that matter.

In case you didn’t get the memo, it’s hot in Seattle – the kind of heat they marvel at in Siberia and laugh at in Tempe. Seattleites adhere to a few interesting weather rules:

1. Never be prepared. Oh, but what is this? “Snow,” you say? And it comes every year on a regular basis, and I still don’t have snow tires or the right kind of jacket?

2. Umbrellas are for tourists and pussies. Sure, I own one. But no, I never use it – like I said, they’re for tourists and pussies, of which I am neither. Sometimes I’ll bring it along – it’s a beautiful vintage umbrella from the sixties I inherited from my grandmother – but I never really use it. A real Seattleite has pride in the rain, which generally leads to illness.

3. Complain about the cold, complain about the hot. Seattleites have weather amnesia, myself included. In winter, we want a blue sky, Fourth of July weekend – in August, we wish for a cool White Christmas. September and October are my favorite weather months; I consider the other ones filler – except for May, my birthday month – until autumn comes around. I like the crisp coldness, the leaves turning color, warm drinks, layered clothes, and bonfires more than feeling my internal organs sweat the week away.  Summer can be nice, but I hate being a heat hostage.

Since I can’t cool down in any conventional way, I’m trying to be innovative, which is hard when sweat is dripping off your nose onto your keyboard, which you can’t see because all the lights are off in an effort to stay cool, plus your glasses are sweat-smeared and also the chair is soaked clear through. Can you die from rapid sweat loss? Or will I just lose weight? I’d better look like Kate fucking Moss tomorrow morning – like a thin and proper model on cocaine.

Ideas so far:

-Re-enact the scene from Flashdance where she dumps water on herself, all sexy-like. Except that my leg would be wrapped in a sexy garbage bag and secured with exciting strips of duct tape. And my floors would be ruined.

-Hire a group of good-looking Island men to fan me with banana leaves, or they can fan each other for all I care. There will be men and there will be fanning and it will be glorious.

-Move to a colder location, like The North Pole, or Neptune.

-Hold a spray bottle in one hand and a fan in the other. Douse liberally while avoiding electronics.

-Go see a 14-hour movie every day. Or hang out in the grocery store, because that’s not creepy at all. Who cares, they both have free air-conditioning.

-Ask Harry Potter to find a body temperature-controlling spell for Muggles at Hogwarts.

-Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.

It’s midnight, and the temperature hasn’t dropped outside yet. This is a sign that DOOM is finally upon us – if I don’t make it through the night, make sure my sweat-laden legacy does. This is Sweaty McSweaterson saying SAVE YOURSELVES.

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Written by sn0tteh

July 28, 2009 at 12:14 AM

18 Responses

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  1. It’s been effing hot here in Maine, too. I feel like I’m on Tatooine, complete with the two blazing hot balls. Er, sun, I mean.

    Badass Geek

    July 28, 2009 at 6:07 AM

  2. You know, drinking helps in the heat. I mean, until you pass out from dehydration. Of course, then you REALLY don’t care…

    Libby

    July 28, 2009 at 6:52 AM

  3. I’d just like to tell you that it is raining in Nashville, so very lovely indeed.

    LilRed

    July 28, 2009 at 10:50 AM

  4. @Badass Geek Tatooine! That’s exactly how my blazing hot balls feel right now. So frustrating.

    sn0tteh

    July 28, 2009 at 12:23 PM

  5. @Libby And then you die. I know the drill. It’s hard to drink anything cool when your refrigerator door was left open for days. *shakes fist at kid*

    sn0tteh

    July 28, 2009 at 12:23 PM

  6. @LilRed Nashville has bi-polar weather. Every time I think it’s scorching hot, it’s actually snowing.

    sn0tteh

    July 28, 2009 at 12:24 PM

  7. Hey… give us back our summer! We are struggling to get out of the 80’s which is bizarre for July in KS.

    matthew thompson

    July 28, 2009 at 4:55 PM

  8. It finally rained here for the first time in a month. I was getting sick of the cow manure dust that flies around. Now I just get to step on it! (in case you didn´t know, my in-laws have cows and sheep and stuff here in mexico)

    Joan

    July 28, 2009 at 5:33 PM

  9. I just want to note that you said…”until autumn comes” in this blog post. You’re a dirty bird-but after ten years of marriage it says something that you still find me attractive.

    p.s. I sent you something very secret in the mail today…

    Auticia

    July 28, 2009 at 7:29 PM

  10. @matthew Take it. TAKE OUR HEAT. Oh my God, I wish I lived at a grocery store.

    sn0tteh

    July 29, 2009 at 9:24 AM

  11. @Joan Wow, that sounds awful. But I hope you’re having fun with your family!

    sn0tteh

    July 29, 2009 at 9:24 AM

  12. @Auticia This is how we keep the magic alive.

    sn0tteh

    July 29, 2009 at 9:24 AM

  13. I never understood the umbrella thing. I straighten my hair, it takes 30 minutes to do it under a hot hair dryer. It takes 2 minutes in the rain to completely ruin it. I’m using an umbrella, damnit.

    stacymarie

    July 29, 2009 at 10:37 AM

  14. Are you trying to tell me that my velvet cape and bejewelled thong are out of style?

    Manthony

    July 29, 2009 at 2:53 PM

  15. @stacymarie I only straighten my hair on warm/cool days. That was my compromise. Otherwise it gets all fucked up, and that pisses me off.

    sn0tteh

    July 30, 2009 at 11:47 AM

  16. @Manthony YOU ARE NOT ELVIS.

    sn0tteh

    July 30, 2009 at 11:48 AM

  17. umbrellas are for pussies and tourists. see as prrof: bumbershoot; named for umbrellas. *shudders*

    Matt

    July 30, 2009 at 10:11 PM

  18. @Matt Oh, Bumbershoot, how I HATE thee.

    sn0tteh

    July 31, 2009 at 12:01 PM


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