Heat

I'm not a fan of the heat. Never have been. I grew up in New England and even the seasonably warm weather of years gone by was too much for me. As a child, I remember moping around most of the Summer looking forward to the Fall. Yes, although school was in the Fall, I adored Autumn. I even made up a song about it when I was very young. I'd sing it while swinging near the grape arbor in my grandparents' yard. It was one of those atonal 6 year old "compositions" and included lyrics about how great the Fall was because that was when my birthday and halloween were and when apples and grapes got ripe (my grandparents had an apple tree too). My love of Autumn made it Summer just that much less tolerable. Summer was like the nasty vegetable you have to eat if you want dessert.

As an adolescent, I loathed the beach in the daytime. I tried different things to make it tolerable - reading magazines (boring, hot, glare from page), reading books (hot, glare from page, crick in neck and hands), and walking the beach wall. The last one was less troublesome, but still it didn't spare you from hot. And hot, aside from just being fucking uncomfortable and draining, means fewer clothes so you don't get heat stroke. Which brings me to a whole other set of "I hate Summer" issues - the clothes. As a teen, I was quite down on my body. Although I was underweight most of my life, I recall quite distinctly at 16 thinking that while I wasn't "fat" overall, I had "fat" parts...like my thighs. I used to call them "porpoise thighs" because to me they looked humped and stout. Yes, this was incredibly foolish, I know. But it was a manifestation of being young and female in my particular cultural context. 80s teen summer clothes tended to unavoidably expose my "porpoise thighs" and I went to great lengths, including wearing overly warm overly long jean shorts and combat boots, to disguise them somewhat. No cooter cutter daisy dukes for me.

To make matters worse, for all of my life I have been just totally untannable. I get what we call the "Irish Tan" which is to say I burn, blister, and then if I'm lucky I walk away with a fresh crop of freckles (if not I stay reddish for a while, then go back to white). I've actually gotten a rash from sun exposure and have had two just god awful burns in my life. But never the fashionable golden tanned skin that would make wearing short and skirts with sandals even remotely high on my list of things I look OK in.

Now that there's so much about the aging affects of sun on skin, I am happy I generally tended to have limited sun exposure in my life. Unfortuantely, the sight of my blue-white legs with dark stubble (or worse, dark not stubble) poking out from under the kinds of super short clothes one would find desirable in 90 degree weather has always bothered the shit out of me. We all have our things, don't we? Now that I'm older, I'm less freaked out about my body but I still hate the quite large amount of untanned (and untannable) skin extreme summer heat requires me to show. I worry I look like my mother, over 30 skinny white legs showcasing veins and missed hairs.

Which brings me to the point. It is going to be hotter than blazes here in CT this week. I realized as I was thinking about what I had to do this week and what my wardrobe options were so I didn't look horrible doing it that the issue of looking good (or not) in a sun dress is so tiny in comparison of another much more valid concern. Keeping healthy if we lose power. We do tend to do that here in rural buttfuck CT. Last year, we lost power in my area for nearly a week with no explanation from the electric company. This year, I've read numerous reports about power outages even in urban areas...power outages that have gone on and on and on. A quick check of my temp this evening puts me well into the still febrile category (100F) so I guess it's time to bust out the bikini top, the halters, the crotch grazing sundresses, and the sandals, and worry less about my dignity and more about staying cool and healthy.