July is my least favorite month. 
Most people experience seasonal depression in the winter, but I experience it July-October. Maybe it’s because I live in this strange no man’s land between the swamplands of the Florida coastline and the south Georgia farmland. Historically, people came here to quail hunt each winter, only to flee for the summer months ridden with mosquitos of nightmarish size and oppressive humidity. Even the wildest of dreamers will be suppressed by the heat. New Yorkers and Arizonians may think they know heat; yeah, sure, the concrete of the big apple absorbs the sun’s rays, and the deserts bake to no end, but this part of the world is different. Here, we steam. It’s this inescapable swollen pocket of damp heat that gradually intensifies as the summer mercilessly marches on into the months of fall. I’m no stranger to the heat—I was born in Texas and raised north of Atlanta—but the summers here are a torture truly unique unto themselves.
But it's February, why are you complaining about the heat now?
Because the winter doesn't exist here. We don't get that season. Sure, there may be a cold snap here and there December-March, but it's not winter. And lately we've had highs in the EIGHTIES. EIGHT. IES. 
My genetics weren't made to endure this environment. My blood, regardless of how much garlic I eat, remains delectable to the hordes of biting insects. My pale skin refuses to tan. It has two shades--pale, and boiled lobster red. There is no in between. My hair gains strength with every drop of humidity and turns into an endlessly tangled maze of frizz. 
Somebody, anybody, please, please find a way to send us some sort of respite. I'm not ready for summer to start in FEBRUARY. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Power of Improv (Or, a Continuation of How I Justify Making Up Damn Near Everything in My Life as I Go Along): Part 3

Image
           A quick rewind as we move into the third significant “yes, and” moment: Late February of 2019, the local community theater had auditions for a musical called “Hands on a Hardbody” (my overenthusiastic review of that will surface eventually). But what’s more, I actually suggested to the theater that they look into this show last year. AND THEY DID AND DECIDED TO DO IT. I WAS SO DAMN EXCITED, IT’S OBSCENE. I realized one night, after debating whether or not to try out and ultimately deciding to do so, that I could not be in this show—my vacation time fell during the last weekend of shows. I was disappointed. I was frustrated. I was surprised at how much it aggravated me. Finally, I came to the conclusion that even if I couldn’t be IN the show, I would find a way to be as involved as humanly possible. I showed up to auditions and explained my position to the director, who, for some reason, just sorta nodded and was like, “Yeah, that’s cool, rehears...
Read more

What Have You Seen This Week? (Or Recently?) Installment 1

            This week, I’m lovingly stealing the title for my entry from a segment belonging to one of my favorite podcasts, “Broadwaysted”, in which the hosts discuss whatever shows (movies, plays, musicals, or just some cool exhibit, but typically live theater experiences) they’ve seen since the previous episode. Why, you ask? Simply because I had my mind blown when FSU put on their own production of one of my favorite shows of all time: “Hairspray”.             Listen, “Hairspray” is such a hand-clapping, leg-slapping, toe-tapping good time, I’m rarely going to be disappointed in it, regardless of who is leading the production, but the talent in this show was truly remarkable. There is not a single weak voice on stage—anyone and everyone who opens their mouth commands the attention of every last audience member from start to finish. The set design had to be one of the most well-constructed and t...
Read more

The Power of Improv (Or, a Continuation of How I Justify Making Up Damn Near Everything in My Life as I Go Along): Part 2

Image
          I last left you with my history of improv and the theory of “yes, and”—we’ll pick up from there.             I’m not sure what’s in the water, but I seem to be encountering an unusually large number of “yes, and” situations lately. Let’s take a quick look at the most significant ones of 2019 so far: A simple one to start—I met my friend, Seth, in yoga at the local YMCA. He once upon a time was a doctor who commuted to hospitals by helicopter, and now he splits his time between our tiny little southern town and sailing around the world while writing a novel. …Okay. Right. Totally normal. To say I was fascinated by his story would be an understatement. After a couple weekly yoga classes, I finally got to know what his novel was about (still under wraps for you general public folk) and somehow it came up in conversation that I was an English major with a writing concentration. What follo...
Read more