Onward, though, to the main point of today's blog.
It is hot. Very hot. Blisteringly hot (like how I worked the title in there?) We live in Utah, land of few trees and no night life. There's really no respite from the heat, unless you have air conditioning or a basement. I'm lucky enough to live in a basement apartment, but still find it necessary to venture out during the day time. During these rare entrances into the surface world, upon exposure to light and heat I usually strike a pose similar to that of the wicked witch of the west after Dorothy threw water on her. It's not pretty. And, unfortunately, I don't have green skin to protect me from the sun's harmful rays, so instead of my normal milky white color, most of my exposed body has turned the color of a stop sign.
Unlike most of the schmucks that live here, I hate warm weather. Not even hot weather, Just warm weather does me in. Hot weather is detestable to the point where I literally hibernate given no other alternative, such as a night job, or trees lining the path to my car. Now that summer is fully upon us, I am left with limited options. It got up to 95 degrees today, a fairly regular reading for this area, and it doesn't look as if the weather's going to change any time soon.
So I have formulated a number of plans in solution to this. I'll outline them for you here:
- Contract Leukemia. Hospital rooms are air conditioned, have cable, and are super clean. In addition, one gets to consume a lot of Popsicles during chemotherapy. The only tough part would be to fully recover by October.
- Fake my own death. My parents are looking into buying a family mausoleum, which would be easy enough to get out of at the end of summer (I'm not up to the sort of thing the Bride had to do in Kill Bill Vol. 2), and would stay plenty cool, what with being insulated with two and a half feet of marble. The downside would be paranoia, night tremors twenty-four hours a day, and cold feet. The upside would be blissful silence, and an almost certain spoiling rotten of me when my bereaved family finds I'm not dead after all and wants to show me how much they love me before it's too late. Again.
- Move to Alaska. I'm not really sure if it's still snowing up there or not, but I'd get to see polar bears, it'd be a lot cooler than here, and I might be courted by a Charlie Chaplinesque fellow (from The Gold Rush) while working on my super-dangerous yet extremely-high-paying job as a fisher woman.
- Create a bio-dome that covers the valley. I came up with this plan many a summer ago when I thought I was going to die while marching on sizzling asphalt in 115 degree heat in a wool suit while playing an unwieldy instrument. Just before I passed out and was pulled off the street by the anti-spanking pamphlet dudes, it occurred to me that we weren't taking full advantage of living in a valley. I spent the rest of the summer drawing up blueprints for a huge contact-like structure that would sit on top of the mountains and provide a blissfully balmy climate for all valley residents. I was a little dismayed to find that The Simpsons Movie used the same gimmick, but as a method of entrapment from the outside world, rather than as a respite from it.
P.S. No, you stick it Nolan and Devin, someday I will have a computer more powerful than the energizer bunny. Then we'll see who's laughing.