Thursday, March 8, 2012

I Am Totally Hot, But Not In A Good Way

I wish I had a fan I could carry
around with me all the
time (but wouldn't make me
look demented).
Yes, it would be totally awesome if I was hot, like smokin' hot, because then I probably wouldn't care as much that I am the other kind of hot.  The kind of hot I am is often attributed to being a 40-something woman.  But here's the thing, I am not peri-menopausal or menopausal or any other kind of pausal.  I am just hot.  There are no flashes or night sweats.  I am just hot.  This all started about 14 years ago after I gave birth to the girl.  I get hot easily, and then can't cool off.  I totally blame SB and I don't care if that sounds mean.  She was also an un-turnable breach and had to be delivered via c-section.  I plan to use this information throughout her life to point out to her why being nice to me is the least she can do.

I can't tell you the last time I blow dried my hair until it was completely dry.  I usually get about halfway through (on the cool setting, mind you) and then have to take a break.  I am then forced to wait until I have cooled off/ stopped sweating sufficiently enough to put on my make-up.  Once done with make-up, I have to flee the bathroom (which is still warm from my shower) to cool off again.  Third trip into the bathroom is to dry my hair a little more (still not all the way) and then pat dry my face and put some powder on to get rid of the sheen of sweat already forming.  Do you see why I can't get anywhere on time?  God forbid The Party has to be in the bathroom getting ready too.

So now that you see where I am in the temperature department, let me tell you about the trip I just took with my friend LG.  To Florida.  Where it's hot and humid.  And even when it's not hot, it's kind of humid.   And let me start by telling you that LG never seems to be hot or sweaty (but I love her anyway).

As I mentioned last week, LG and I were going to Florida to visit her mom.  Her mother lives in a beautiful beach area in a gorgeous golf course development.  We had a lovely visit and lots of fun.  We sat on the big screened-in porch in the afternoons reading and drinking wine.  This was in between lunches and dinners out. Really, there is nothing to complain about except that I was pretty much "glowing" the entire trip.  

One of LG's
Florida outfits.
We started out in the Philadelphia airport waiting in line at security.  I am already hot.  Not LG, she's wearing her fleece (really LG?) and scarf still.  When it's finally our turn the TSA guy decides I need to take off the cardigan I am wearing (too close to a coat I guess) even though there are no zippers or pockets.  Now, on one hand, I'm kind of happy because I'm hot, but on the other hand and both feet, I have zero interest in taking off my light-weight cotton sweater because I am wearing it over a cami as part of my outfit.  It's meant to stay on (think twin set).  Jeans and a tight cami are not how I was planning on having the general population see me.  Now I'm hot and grumpy.  And forget just slinking through security, you now have to go in that glass cylinder and raise your hands over your head.  I am sure I was quite the vision.

Next we hear the announcement at the gate that we need our boarding passes, but can now put away our IDs, just like they always say.  Oh yeah, that's not what they said this time.  As we are trying to get on the plane a TSA person is checking IDs.  I'm hot, carrying a bunch of stuff and now have to put it all down and get my license back out.  The guard, seeing this is going to be a production, sighs at us with disgust and says "just go" and moves onto the next person.  So pretty much, the way to get through phase two of security is to appear stupid and annoying.

For the first time in forever I am on a plane that is not full, so LG and I can spread out.  I am finally feeling a little cooler as I can direct my own little blower right onto me.  LG is now using her scarf as a shawl and has her fleece across her lap.  She looks like an infirmed old lady who should be in a rocking chair (I am sorry LG, but you know it's true).  Are we even on the same plane?  How can she be cold? 

We arrive in Florida.  The weather is beautiful.  Low 80s.  At first I am very happy.  Then I realize I am already starting to feel a little sweaty because of the humidity.  Even indoors where there's air conditioning or fans, it seems to be humid.  I pretty much spent 5 days trying to repair my hair and make-up and subtly pat sweat off my face with a tissue.  I want to know what kind of make-up and hair products these women in Florida use, because not one person looked as bedraggled as I did.  Everyone's hair and make-up remained fresh and lovely throughout the day.  Even though LG never got hot, she at least had the decency to have humidity-ridden hair like me.

What I felt like doing to
Party after he "helped"
me with the Healthy
Eating Speech.
LG's mom gave me this magazine she reads that has a lot of cool stuff in it.  It's called The Week and it's put together by the New York Times.  It pretty much sums up the week's news events and what various other sources are saying about those events.  It's kind of like Cliff Notes (I don't want to hear from anyone who doesn't know what Cliff Notes are or who wants to tell me about the beauty of Spark Notes which are on the interweb.).   Included though are also some interesting and/or funny things.  Tomorrow  I look forward to telling you about how nothing you do at all ever is your fault.  It's because of the parasites.  As an aside, I am sure my parasites are naked and LG's have on a parka.  I also want to tell you how the introduction speech to "Our Family Will Be Eating More Healthy Foods" went.

10 comments:

  1. So glad I'm not the only hot person. I think you may be on to something blaming your daughter. I'm fairly certain my hotness came after my daughter was born as well (via c-section). I can't do the hair drying in all one setting either. I like to open windows to cool it down. Florida, forget about it. Too hot always!

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  2. I was like LG for a long time - always cold. Then I started taking meds for my thyroid and *bam* hot all the time. Even after I quit the pills. Now I'm wearing t-shirts while my mom is wearing her winter parka.

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  3. Welcome back, DTC.
    Ps. Phila's security people are power-tripping, incompetent, unprofessional people, usually wearing uniforms that make them look like sausage links. I'm tempted to fly out of Newark just to avoid them.
    XO
    AK

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  4. Hmm. Guess you won't be moving south anytime soon. :) I've learned to wear a ball hat. It helps that my boy has about 100 for me to choose from, and sometimes it has brought about interesting conversations from strangers. "OOh, you from Boston?!" as I'm wearing a Red Sox hat. "No, my boy is on the team." Mind you I was 35 at the time. "Really? What position??" "pitcher, but it's coach pitch, not majors." I got the biggest look of disgust as he mumbles something about not REALLY being a Red Sox fan and who knows what else as he ran away from me. Hmpf. :D

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  5. Haha laughed out loud!! I like that my parasites have parkas on and I LOVE my Fla pic. so true, so true. We had fun. Love you lots.

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    Replies
    1. Oh!! I should have mentioned your need for a spray tan - you need a little color. ;)

      Love ya! xo

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  6. I need LIKE buttons!!! I am SO the not-in-a-good-way hot person in my family. The Man bought a fan for our bedroom a few years ago - it has two fans and is multidirectional. I gave him hell for it, as I am not hot while sleeping, and it's noisy as six snare drums.

    That said - I move that dang thing into the bathroom EVERY.Single.Morning. He's freezing and finally started showering in the other room because I make it so "cold". I'm just barely not sweating! I detest our 100+ degree summers when the A/C doesn't cool the steamy bathroom enough for me to put makeup on my face in such a manner so as to not have it slide off my face when I turn around to fan my hot boobs yet again...wait, that was too much, wasn't it?

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  7. Oh, baby you hit the sweaty nail right on the head! My favorite question - "aren't you cold?" - all the time, any season! Ah, no, I wish!

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  8. My hands are always cold. You are not my daughter.
    Love,
    Mom

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