it's fucking hot outside

sorry to be of a one track mind, but it's hard to think of much else when you feel sick by the end of each day. i honestly wasn't doing that bad with the weather this year until these past couple of weeks; even up until the beginning of july i was less than whiny. now that i'm sweating buckets by 7 am it's a different story. perhaps i'm just a sweaty girl... a big, swollen, withering bloatation device. as tim might say in his fake southern accent: hee-yulp mey! hee-yulp mey!

so the theatre festival was an entertaining time. i did manage to give away a ton of books from the set of my show, which made the festival crew very happy. one of the directing workshops was quite up my alley, all about composition and such. there were some interesting shows there and we all got to commune with other artfags in good fun. we got some decent feedback on our shows, for the most part. we ate too many waffles at the hotel, of course.

i also got hit on (i think) by a redneck in the bluebell saloon. his name must have been smoky joe one tooth, and his idea of telling me i was "purrrty" was to throw a bar coaster at my head from across the room and flash a rotted out grin in my general direction while the other inbred folk at his table leered at me like i was a baby back rib. adding insult, after i got up from the thousand degrees of karaoke going on in the bluebell and said "okay then, i'm outta here," i walked out the front door and my forehead was attacked by a kamikaze junebug. are those things just out to get me or what? no matter where i am, they always seem to seek out my face for a little fly by marauding.

by the time we got home on sunday afternoon, i was wilty. summer is not the time for me to go outside. some people might even think i have some reverse seasonal thing since i get so little sun after the beginning of june. oh, how i long for autumn. i've even changed my screen to look like changing leaves. so when i walked into the house on sunday and felt like i was going to throw up, it shouldn't have surprised me that i almost immediately passed out. even though i wore a pile of sunscreen and drank water, i was sincerely ill. so if you didn't hear from me for three days this week, it was because i've been spending my time wallowing on the couch in the manner of a sickly flu victim. bleh. liz keeps wrting about how she's being a cranky bitch lately, but i say she's simply in survival mode. it. is. sucky. ass. hot. did i mention that i whine a lot when i'm sweating?

the rest of my day will probably be spent waiting for the sun to go down so that my necklace doesn't leave a scorch mark on my chest when i leave the building. again. if only you could go to an indian food buffet at midnight! my urge for mango custard and naan took over earlier today, and my eyes are still stinging from the drive home. it's times like this that my gratitude for the automated postal machine (and other late/all night methods of getting things done) goes way way up. i do all of my errands like a cat burglar now, slipping in under cover of darkness and then running for my life towards more and better air conditioning.

this would be an excellent time to run my netflix like a bitch and squander all my time watching bad shows on bravo while doing puzzles and sucking back iced tea. thank goodness i'm off work for the rest of the week. that damn phone ringing all the time sent me over the edge.


why mary would be proud of me this week:
my pants went to a tailor to be shortened properly for a change