summering is a verb

do you know what a heat index is? since some of you don't live with rotisserie chicken summers, i might have to explain it for you. see, the heat index tells you the "feels like" temperature. this means that, while it may only be 99 degrees outside, the heat index makes it feel like about 104 degrees. add in the humidity and you're living in a microwave oven. they have actually issued official heat advisory warnings here this week. this means that any second now, people will literally be in danger of dying from the weather. really. and you thought carcinogens and salmonella were real concerns, didn't you?

so in my further travels, i went to st. louis and columbia with derek last week. it was just a quick jaunt across missouri for a couple of appointments. we had lunch (where i ate something called a ponyshoe: bacon, fries, texas toast, liquid cheese, pepper - yum!) and i properly schmoozed before going off to play word games on my nintendo while they talked about who knows what. on the way home i entertained derek in the car by reading aloud from the new laurie notaro book. and p.s. i think you can be a badass even in a prius.

dear laurie, i too know about terrible weather. this may not be arizona, but it's fucking HOT. the red paint in the no parking zone came off on the bottom of my shoe today and made a melty, sucking noise as i stepped off the curb. my air conditioner started crying last night. i feel your point about the badlands showdown.

tomorrow morning we leave for the theatre festival guthrie. i hope i haven't painted it as a picture of debauchery to derek. in my younger days (she says with a certain sense of irony) we would go and party like rock stars. now i go and get other people into mischief because i revel in being a bad influence. we should definitely get derek a bottle of rum for the occasion and turn him loose with all those artfags. this is coming from the girl who rarely drinks! prepare for total exhaustion, derek.

we did a few shows over the weekend to raise gas and food money. i'm ambivalent at this point. in one way, i'm ready for the break and tired of telling people what to do, as shocking as that might sound. but i also look forward to whatever my next project might be after i return from seattle. oh, and did i mention that my fucking awesome actors got a standing ovation last night? yay for the ladies!

part of the reason i keep getting out there and doing so much stuff lately is to avoid isolating myself. somehow the past couple of years have lent themselves to the slow and quiet closing of a circle. while i realize that being alone and being quiet aren't bad things, it hasn't always been a productive thing for me to cut myself off. there are periods that i need to step back and take in my own life. i need to slow down and get a sense of myself as a way of recharging. it's just that i don't really know how to do that without shutting off the whole grid.

stop. go. these are the speeds i am equipped with. my newest goal is to find a pace that can adjust as needed and not behave like an errant golf cart. it's a bit lofty, but i think i can do it without going on cruise control OR hearing the brakes squeal. how many evenings have you tromped through the house saying something akin to, "i want to do something, but i don't know what. i don't want to go anywhere, but i don't want to stay at home. i don't feel like doing anything, but i don't want to sit around and blob out. i may as well just stand in the doorway. halfway in and halfway out and trying to think of where i'm going and what to do. exactly how entertained do i need to be?!?! why can't i just be here and not be anxious?" surely i can't be the only one.

this must be why i'm a smoker who plays with glue and rearranges her sharpie collection. my fidgeting drives me crazy when i don't know what to do with it. maybe i'll go clean out my purse and go through the receipt graveyard. maybe i should put up the laundry or clean out my closet. and wait for winter to get here.


my crowning achievement of the week:
an itch struck me out of nowhere and i made homemade tortillas for the book review club. yes, i do rock. no one threw up.