When I was younger, and the grandmother I turned into was still alive and I hadn’t turned into her yet, she used to call me. “It looks like it’s pouring the rain where you are,” she’d say, or, “You must be so warm right now.”
I’d be all…oh, is it? Is it hot? Is it raining? I guess it is, yeah. I didn’t care what the weather was. I was busy going to bars and tying my combat boots. For some of those years I was living in Seattle where it rained alla time. I really didn’t notice the weather at all.
It must have disappointed her when I moved to LA and her long-distance weather report told her, “Oh, it’s 75 and sunny where June is” EVERY DAMN DAY.
I don’t even know where she got her information circa 1993. The Weather Channel?
The point is, I’ve become obsessed with the weather lately. But I have good reason.
Summer here in the South is like winters were in Michigan: You wait for it to be over. Summer here is dreadful. 100% humidity, 99 degrees, mosquitos. And September doesn’t really mean the end of summer, per se, as it did in Michigan when it felt frosty by September 7. It’s still hot AF here on September 7. So what you do here is, you hope for the nearing of October.
I’ve lived here for 13 autumns now, and I know that in late September, it starts to get bearable. Some days might get up to only 82. Wow! What a difference that is. Some nights might even get into the 60s. Then October comes and each day is a fucking miracle.
Each day of September was hotter than the last. I’m-exhausted-just-walking-to-the-car hot. Cats-are-lying-upside-down hot. And when October got here?
Every day has been in the 90s.
I’d asked my entire row if they wanted to go with me to the bed and breakfast I like to go to, because there was a wine tasting event. Last week when we thought of it, we were all way into it.
My entire row at work. I haven’t become corn.
Then yesterday was the day of the event, and two of us had a migraine, one of us didn’t feel social, and the other two clean forgot about it.
I was content to not go, but I got a brilliant idea. Yesterday the high was 97. But today and all the days after, it’s getting cooler and cooler. “This might be the last day it’s in the 90s in 2019,” I thought. “I should have a little going away for
FUCKING FUCK ASS
So I looked on Weather Underground, my source for accurate weather. Once we were having an extreme storm, with lighting every 30 seconds like an old horror movie, and terrible winds. “Hey, Google, when is the rainstorm going to end?” I asked, hugging traumatized Edsel.
“It’s not going to rain today,” Google Home kept telling me. It was getting wet, but it kept telling me that.
According to Weather Underground, which gives you the weather hourly, it was going to sink to a comfy 89 between 6:00 and 7:00 last night.
At the end of the workday, I went to the break room to wash my water bottle.
“Guess what I’m going to do tonight?” I smugged to Ryan, my coworker who Faithful Reader Jan is dangerously in love with.
“Are you going to your old movie theater?” he asked, and I guess I’m fairly predictable.
“No! I’m headed to my backyard, where between 6:00 and 7:00 it will get down past 90, and I will say goodbye to 90 in 2019 forever.” I was so pleased with my plan. Was going to crack open a new case of my blackberry fizzy water and everything.
Ryan looked at me.
Why’d he have to make it sound sad? And why is alone sad? I was perfectly content to do this alone. No one to say, “Shouldn’t we be getting outside if we’re gonna do this?” or “What are we gonna DO out there?” No one to tell me it might be freakishly hot in another few weeks or anything annoying.
So after I unfriended Ryan FROM MY LIFE, I headed to my abode, where I checked the weather app during dinner.
Finally, at a little after 6:00, I headed out for my exciting plan.
It wasn’t even hot back there, I realized as I applied bug spray. It was shady, and sort of breezy. I know it’s bad when 91 feels tolerable.
And anyway, I wasn’t alone, Ryan, I had Edsel.
I drank my fizzy water and waited for the break. I listened to the birds and watched a V of geese fly over. They were probably flying north to cool off. “dis down swetter suk RN.”
Then? Twenty-two minutes later?
TAAAA-DAAAA! Also, thanks for the senior discount into, weather app. Fuckstick.
Anyway, I said goodbye to the 90s and CK One and thigh-high tights and chokers and went inside.
This morning, Google Home told me the high today is now 91.