...if I may borrow a turn-of-phrase from my grandmother. She's quite the Wordsmithe. Anyways, that's how hot it is in Southern California right now. It was a 110 goddamn degrees in San Diego this past weekend. What's more it was humid. That's not how the desert is supposed to work. Maybe I was lied to in all those grade school science units about climate zones, but I can assure you this humidity was not reflected in the desert diorama I turned in to Mr. Eiseman in 4th grade, and I got an A+ on that bitch. At Comic-Con on Friday, a usually confident and self-possessed friend of mine decided to walk to the convention center, only to find that by the time he got there, the oppressive heat had melted him down into every horrible, fat, sweaty, mouth-breathing nerd stereotype in the book. After wiping himself off in the bathroom, he still had to by a new t-shirt to replace the one that had been soaked through on his trek from the shuttle stop. After donning the new, dry garment, he wadded up the soiled shirt and stuffed it deep down into his backpack, along with his shame.
LA is no better. The weather forecasting widget on my computer keeps telling me that the high for the day will be 98 degrees, but then notes that the current temperature is 102. I don't know where this 98 degrees figure is coming from. Perhaps that is the temperature if you're sitting on a block of ice in the walk-in deepfreeze at the county morgue? Keep in mind that my second floor apartment has shitty air-conditioning, and is routinely five to seven degrees hotter than the outside. Do the math on that and then try to imagine sleeping comfortably. It's not happening I haven't used my comforter or top sheet in weeks, and every morning I wake up feeling like I've slept on a used bath mat. Changing and washing the bed sheet is a Sisyphean task at best, since the damn thing is just instantly befouled again that night. I need to wait for the heat to break before I can effectively wash my linens, though by then I may just have to burn them and hope that Bed, Bath, and Beyond is having a sale. One of the minor advantages of being single at this moment is that the thought of sharing my bed with another warm body in the middle of this swelter borders on repulsive. Though, I would not be opposed to meeting a cute girl with a well air conditioned apartment. Just know that as soon as the temperature drops we will have to reevaluate the situation.
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I would like to point out that while walking and being outside in the humid air, it makes it seem kind of hot, it was in fact only like 80 in San Diego. Also, I don't think San Diego is as much of a desert as Los Angeles
This web page shows that on Saturday, the temp. in SD maxed out at 99 with a max of 82% humidity. It was the hottest July 22nd in San Diego since 1960, shattering the old record by a full 12 degrees. Check it. Regardless of actual numbers, the point is that it was in San Diego, and remains in my apartment, hot beyond the limits of human tolerance, or, at the very least, hotter than it should be if you don't live in Phoenix or Kuwait.
No better in KC, heat indexes in the 110-115 range expected this week.
Paul, a little bird told me that you have an awesome new job at a really cool company. We'll be talking soon, you and I, about a project that will soon fall into your hands at this new company. I wish you much happiness and success in this new phase of your professional career.
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