Thursday, June 9, 2011

Triple Digit Doomsday

Jess dancing to Cotton-eyed Joe! I was too
hot to dance!

     It happens every year. The moment at which the thermostat in my car reaches triple digits, an air conditioned space feels like the arctic circle compared to the outside air, and my body starts rebelling against the Texas heat and humidity. "I can't do it!", every inch of my frame cries out. My entire body feels sluggish. . . . . . . . . . . . . . I can barely put one foot in front of the other when outdoors, and I can't distract myself away from thoughts of indoor couches positioned perfectly under ceiling fans and sugar saturated snow cones. Yesterday at the Rangers game I thought I wasn't going to make it. I'm sure my posse was growing tired of hearing my constant complaints of how overheated I was, but I couldn't contain my comments. I was just so hot! I was nervous that my insides were going to reach boiling temperatures and I might spontaneously combust, my bones disintegrating to ashes, reminding me of that South Park episode where Kenny held in his farts too much (since he had a new girlfriend) and he eventually exploded. While working out it's a different story, but when I'm sitting still and there's even a breeze and I'm sweating bullets. . . . . .  . . . .it's no bueno in my book. I'm sure I'll find a way to survive until fall, as I have for 26 consecutive years now, but as of this moment my foresight is . . . . .  .nearsighted. This is not helping my attempt at self control in not chopping off my hair. All I can think about lately is how breezy it would feel to just say goodbye to the locks and hello to the pixie. I need help.

     So the Rangers game really sucked it up Tuesday night, but our packed lunch was exactly opposite of that. It was amazingly delicious (the people next to us even felt compelled to comment on how good it smelled), AND we bounced in perfect timing to tune in the Mavericks vs Heat game on the radio and listen to the full blown suspense old school style on the way home. We may or may not have been the crazy car bouncing up and down on the highway, caused by the four adults inside restless with a little syndrome called end-of-game-close-call-anxiety! If you haven't been watching the finals, you are missing out on a good match up. Poor Dirk even kept up his hero status last night with a fever to add to his finger's torn ligament. What a trooper! We shall all be on the edge of our seats tonight, and regardless of what happens: those sorry-good-for-nothing-dramatic-floppers (we all know who they are) can kiss my pearly white voluptuous asset they call a booty! 

Jess and I supported our Mavs at the Ranger Game,
just so they didn't think we forgot about them!

     Speaking of heat and voluptuousness: I was working off that booty of mine yesterday at the gym when my trainer friend spotted me and without hesitation called me out for not being at the gym lately. Hey, I got a bag full of excuses! Crazy work schedule, needy doggies, vacation, illness, Ranger games, and who wants to be stuck inside a gym when there's gorgeous last minute spring air to enjoy outside? Well, those days are over for now. The heat is here to stay and has officially driven me indoors. (The dogs look up at me like I've taken them to a torture chamber when we go downstairs.  . . . . . . . . ."What???? This isn't what we wanted! We just wanted to go outside, not to visit Hades!" Sumo won't even walk. He lays in the grassy shade and then makes you drag him.)

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