sweating like a hooker in a southern baptist church

I feel like once a long time ago back in some science class I was taught that species adapted to their environments. Survival of the fittest. If you can't take the heat, you get out of the kitchen. In this case, mostly because you're dead.

So if you're raised somewhere really hot, you should be able to take the heat, right? Wrong.

I spent 18 solid years of my life, and a good chunk of time since then, in Memphis, Tennessee, home of the 110 degree summers with 105 percent humidity that'll knock you dead just for daring to walk out of your front door at 7 in the morning. When you live somewhere that has summer heat advisories that simply say "Don't go outside," you'd think you'd be used to the high temperatures. 85 degrees and 40 percent humidity would feel like a walk in the park, a pic nic, a cool breeze up your skirt!

Well, let me tell you. It does not. And I don't care what I might've been through in the past, every time I'm hot and sweaty it feels like that very instant is the absolute hottest I have EVER BEEN in my life and I cannot imagine how I could possibly be hotter without dropping dead RIGHT THERE.

It is entirely possible that I'm being a big baby. It certainly would not be the first time and it definitely won't be the last. But in my defense, I have to offer this very important piece of information: there is no air conditioning in my apartment. Which means no relief at night. No sweet release after a long walk home from the train station. No cold air hitting your face as you walk in the door, no little voice in your head reminding you that WE ARE NOT AIR CONDITIONING THE NEIGHBORHOOD.

It reminds me of the way my freshman roommate and I used to lie around our dorm room in our bras and underwear in October when they decided it was cool enough to turn the A/C off, or in April when they decided it just wasn't quite hot enough to turn it on yet. Or, even worse, the two weeks of actual summer in England that I passed on the third floor of the Gordos home back in 2005, when I took cold baths every night and draped cold, wet rags over myself to try to sleep at night.

So no, I cannot stand the heat. And I would really like to get out of the kitchen. But can I just stand in front of the freezer for a few minutes first?


cheers,
elizabeth