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Desperate Working Mommas
Your one-stop site for fanatical television snarking, questionable political analysis, occasional attempts to address the parenting issues facing working mothers, and halfhearted promises to stop obsessing about the entertainment industry, already! Oh, not to mention the random bitching and moaning. There's always that.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Life Lesson #314: Humidity is NOT My Friend

Having been raised in Phoenix, Arizona, where the temperature is known to soar above and beyond "just plain hot" into "fiery depths of hell," it has always bothered me to hear tourists from the east coast declare, "Well, at least it's a dry heat!"-- which, let's be frank, shall we?-- seems like an ignorant thing to say, really. Ignorant. I mean, as far as I am concerned, 120 degrees is hotter than hell, no matter how dry you spin it. I often wondered how much worse a little humidity could be?

What a revelation, let me tell you.

Maybe I have a bit of the claustrophobic in me, but I don't even like going into a sauna. Besides the obvious Unattractive Naked People Sitting Too Damn Close thing, I feel as if I can't breathe in those suckers; it's too steamy, too close, if you know what I mean. I had no idea that walking a few piddly miles along the sidewalks of the crowded, east coast city streets during the dog days of summer could be worse than a sauna, but it won't be the first time I have been the victim of my faulty cognitive process. I have never been good with syllogisms.

And did you know that when the air is so wet and thick in your crappy, dirt-colored, swamp-cooled, studio apartment your bread turns to mush and your crackers disintegrate into an unrecognizable pseudo-masticated mess? Did you?

And did you know that if you accidentally spill milk on your crappy, snot-colored, shag carpeting in said crappy, dirt-colored, swamp-cooled, studio apartment, as God is my witness, even armed with an entire box of baking soda and Febreeze, no amount of frenzied scrubbing, hysterical crying, or frantic blow-drying can remedy the awful, vomitous stench of milk spilled and allowed to sour on dirty shag carpeting? I didn't think so.

And, oh ho ho! Don't EVEN get me started on the horrific Bigness that is my naturally curly hair.

Carpe dry heat, I say.

link | posted by Cat at 2:34 AM

Blogger Circus Kelli commented:

A couple of years ago, Hubby and I went to Tucson, Arizona in March. We took an overnight trip to Sedona (which is JUST beautfil IMO).

It snowed in Sedona, Arizona. Something we were NOT prepared for, but you know... it was a dry snow... ;)

Humidity sucks. ;)

» 2/23/2005 7:35 PM 

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