It's Too Darn Hot!

God only knows what I was thinking today when I decided to come out to my parents' house in New Rochelle to do laundry. Actually, I know exactly what I was thinking: they were taking me out for dinner! What I failed to consider, though, is that my apartment is air conditioned. My parents' house is not.

When I mentioned this to someone a few weeks ago, they responded with something to the effect of "yeah, we don't have central air either." "No," I explained, "we don't have air conditioning." "You mean you just have window units?" "No, we actually don't have any air conditioning at all." (I thought this was pretty easy to comprehend, but maybe I was wrong.) "Then what do you use?" the friend asked. "We have fans." "Just fans?" "Yes, just fans."

So yes, I grew up in a house without AC. In fact, my first summer at TargetCast (2004) was the first time I had ever been exposed to this otherwise ubiquitous modern amenity for any continuous period of time that lasted longer than a trip to a mall or an occasional sleep-over. And I hated it. I hated getting head colds in the summer; keeping a fleece blanket over the back of my desk chair like all the other assistant planners in the icy cube block.

I sailed all summer long for 17 years growing up and enjoyed the warm air. If you got too warm, you simply scooped up some of the cool, refreshing Long Island Sound in your hat and put it right back on your head. Or better yet, you could jump in! (Maybe someday I'll discuss my reflexive eye-roll when someone pontificates about how disgusting the Sound is... I love it.)

Anyway, my Mom's car has AC, but why use that when you can just roll down a window? Or for that matter, why pay to have your house turned into a refrigerator when you can put screens on the windows and doors and turn on a fan? There were usually only 2 or 3 nights a year that it was too warm to get to sleep easily, and then you could always sleep on the back porch couch! Fresh air, people!

Now then. Okay, Lizzie, down off that old-fashioned, self-righteous soapbox and come to grips with the reality of the situation. It's really hot outside. Which means that, at least at our house, it's really hot inside. The kind of heat that makes you aware that even the backs of your knees can sweat.

So here I sit in my parents' kitchen, dreading the inevitable temperature climb that comes with climbing the stairs to my bedroom. All this for a cheeseburger and 2 loads of laundry. Ah well- the heat is bound to break soon, and when it does, I'll be back in my office with my fleece. Until then, I guess I'll just have to turn up the fan!