Polar Bear Plunge, Anyone?

I am fucking hot. No I don’t mean attractive.  I mean yes, I am attractive, but in this instance I am just sweating my face off.  I am sitting here in my underwear writing this with three fans blowing on me because it is wicked hot in my apartment.  If I were rich, or at least living with means more substantial, I would replace those fans with central air.  While I do love to complain about my situation I know it actually isn't a “real problem.” However, sweat feels very real to me. 

Why does Boston love to screw with us?  It tries to freeze us out in the winter and then drench us with rainforest type conditions in the summer.  I woke up in fucking Ferngully this morning.  How am I supposed to function when I am already sweating at 8am?  Somehow though I see other girls effortless flitting through traffic with scarves on! IT IS 95 DEGREES OUT! [if you could not tell the caps lock was to emphasize my exasperation]  Ok, maybe it is my swarthy ethnic background that makes me less than WASPy when it comes to the summer months but cut me some slack!

I do wonder if people get more ornery with the heat.  I get sleepier, more scatter brained and even more likely to engage in risky behavior than usual.  I mean I am this close to putting an ice cube in my pinot grigio and for those who know me, that is a sign that things have become desperate.  I cannot stand stagnant anything and that includes a weather stalemate like we are in right now.  I’ve encountered some less than pleasant personalities as of late and I want to be like, “Look, I know its hot, as is evidenced by my facial sweat and swoob[1], but please sit your swass[2] down and take a chill pill.”

I don’t hate the winter though, so it isn’t like I am going to be complaining in a couple months.  I love bundling my ass up and having snow flakes catch on my eyelashes, its all very magical blah blah blah.  BUT I hate ice. I hate it with an ungodly passion.  I am already unsteady on my feet I realllly don't need Mother Nature greasing the wheels so-to-speak.  Two winters ago it was pouring rain and the sidewalks were iced over two inches thick.  I was walking to the train and a man who was ahead of me turned around and stopped.  At first I was like ok, I’m going to get knifed leaving work, just ducky.  Instead of suffering bodily injury, the gentleman told me that he had noticed me a while back and would I be amenable to him using his umbrella to shield me from the rain.  O M G. This was winter 2010 not 1910.  As I am scatterbrained and generally ridiculous in nature, I had forgotten my parapluie (that’s umbrella for you non Francophiles) and so this was a welcome gesture.  I was so taken aback by his chivalry I almost didn’t knew how to respond.

When I told my girlfriends they were equally perplexed.  He wanted to help me, just because.  What a novel notion!  I allowed him to try and keep my dry while we walked to the Fenway T and I expressed my gratitude for this kind gesture and that was it.  Most days I cannot even get off of the train without getting run down by a mom and child or an all too important business man so I yearn for the days when a gal could get a hand now and then.

Crime is statistically up in the summer months but I wonder if anyone has studied winter random acts of kindness? Maybe it is because everyone is fat and slowed down from excessive turkey consumption and therefore aren’t in any real rush?  I mean if all I wanted was a slower pace in life I’d move down south…but that obviously isn’t going to happen, the sheer rate at which I speak would get me a one way ticket north of the Mason Dixon line in minutes flat. So it isn't so much a slow lifestyle that I am looking for but just an acknowledgement as you push past me on the escalator that I am there.

So I guess I will have to keep truckin’ along this summer with a smile on my face and hopefully that will encourage other people to smile back and lend a sweaty hand to one another.

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[1] Swoob – sweaty boobs

[2] Swass – sweaty ass