a lesson in heat

I feel like the only thing I've been saying lately is "It's so dang hot!" But, it's just that - so dang hot. On Thursday we reached 110 degrees* on my car thermometer. With the humidity and the heat index, I'm sure it "felt like" at least 115. On Friday, I got into my car at 6pm, and it said 110 degrees. Six in the evening is supposed to be on the cool slide of the scale, in my faux-reality at least. I walked into my apartment where the AC was set to 80 degrees. I did the quick math, 80 degrees inside is 30 degrees cooler than the 110 degrees outside. Since when, in the history of anything normal, is 80 degrees thirty degrees cooler than anything?!

Let me just explain a bit what happens when you get into your car and it's been 110 degrees. First, you can not breathe in, for fear of passing out instantly. You must quickly open the windows, and leave the car door open. Now here comes the tricky part. You must use one pinky on one hand to move the shifter from 1st to neutral. Don't risk more than that, its not worth it. Now, using the fourth finger on that same hand you release the emergency brake. Why the fourth finger? Obviously because you can not re-use your pinky, it's on FIRE. About now you will have to shut the door, and using your first and second fingers you can turn the key. I'm sure you wonder, why is the key hot, it wasn't in the car the whole day. It's true, it wasn't, but it has now been in the car for 5 minutes and is also hotter than hades. Now with the car on, you have to buckle up. For this I use my opposite hand, and you have to first locate the metal buckle part - do not attempt to put on your seatbelt without being aware of where the buckle is, that thing is currently a leathal weapon. You must quickly grab the strap and then at the last possible moment, grip the plastic near the buckle and buckle it in. If you still have use of your hands, and if you have not branded yourself in the shoulder with the buckle, you can now drive off. Obviously using only one finger for the steering wheel.

And, that's just starting your car. Let's not discuss the pitfalls of running. The short version is, it sucks. I ran yesterday at 630am, it was already 85 when we started, and it was about 93 when we finished, and 4 miles has never been so difficult in my entire life.

Moral is, it's so dang hot!

*My apologies to those of you stuck in the darkness that is the northeast. I know you all want to say "blah blah blah...what I wouldn't give for sun....blah blah blah", but seriosuly, I'm going to go out on a limb and ask you to be careful what you wish for. There's a happy medium, and I'm ok with concluding that neither of us are experiencing it currently.

an oldie, but a newie

This recent round of mixcorps required me to dig up all of my old CDs. You see, my car was broken in to at least 3 times while I was in college, and since then I refused to buy new CDs, they seemed useless, and out-dated, and old. So for years I've been saying how I don't have any CDs. But, this is an apparent lie. I have a bunch. Not all are great, but I recently spent some time ripping them all to my iTunes. The result of which has been nothing short of pleasant.

I was walking to school the other day, and a song came on. A song I haven't heard in years. But the lyrics resonated with me. Lyrics that had been long forgotten. It came up in a week where I probably needed it most, to be reminded of earlier times - of who I was, or who I wanted to be. And how far off I've fallen. Because as much as I've forgotten, I am still unhappy with answers that I don't feel, and I am still open to the one more chance I'll be given. I am still flying off the rooftops and falling into laughter!

Soul Mate by Sarah Wheeler:

She is looking for a soul mate.
You see, she’s waiting for an answer.
And she’s been listening to all he’s said,
To everything he gave her.
But these words, they are not helping,
You see, ‘cause she doesn’t feel it.
And all the anger that was once inside her,
She’s transformed it and revealed it.
And she is packing up her suitcase.
You see, she never really moved here.
You see, she never planned on staying.
And she is giving up all her fear.

She is climbing now, up the ladder.
Peaking out from the rafters.
Flying now, off the rooftops.
Falling now, into laughter.

There’s an ocean in her mind now,
She can feel the pulling currents.
There is an undertow, which carries her,
It’s taking from her vision.
And there is something that does guide her,
But it is only just a feeling.
And it is only just a glimpse there of
The hand, which you are giving.
And she is sure that this is one more chance,
One chance she’s been given.
I saw her running for the doorway,
I saw her holding to her vision.
And she is going to grab your hand dear,
So please, pull her through the window.
And she is going to walk into the light
With shadows all inside her

And she is climbing now, up the ladder.
Peaking out from the rafters.
Flying now, off the rooftops.
Falling now, into laughter.

rabies

Last night I was at a cook-out with some friends (in Tejas we have to be very careful about throwing around the word BBQ, if its burgers and veggies on the grill, it's a cook-out). The hosts have a tiny crazy English Bulldog, who spent the entire night trying to get out the kitchen door and on to the stoop with all of us. At one point another dog, a boarder collie, wandered over and finally they let the bulldog out to play. The two dogs chased each other around a bit, but the the bulldog retreated back inside. The collie hung around for a long while, and our hosts admitted that they'd never seen this dog in the neighborhood. Ever. The dog had on a collar and a flea collar, but no tags - other than his rabies tag. We began calling the dog Rabies. He was super responsive to this name, and hung out for a few hours. We gave him water, which he slurped up with the quickness. We also gave him table scraps (or really, less scraps and more actual pieces of food). I even played the best game of fetch with Rabies for about 35 minutes. He was much fun, but we felt bad because it became obvious that he was likely lost. With nothing more than the rabies tag to go on, we called the vet number on the tag, and then the answering service to report him missing. The vet we spoke to was not able to get to the office and asked us to hold on to Rabies for the evening so that we could sort it out tomorrow. Our cook-out hosts penned Rabies up in their backyard, and the vet had my number to call in the morning.

As the night progressed Rabies got louder and louder in the yard, angering all the neighbors, so they had to let him out of there. Sadly, when the vet called this morning none of us had thought to write down the tag number - so we have nothing to report about where Rabies is from, who he belongs to, and whether or not I can keep him - afterall, I'm gonna have a big back yard in a matter of weeks! Hopefully he found his way home, or will find his way back to the bulldog house, where they can call the vet again!

*NOTE: this picture is NOT Rabies. See the leaves, wherever this picture was taken it was Fall. We don't have that season here.