...dampness became all the little people.
Today has unbelievably 'moist'. Not such a pleasant word, but unpleasant things call for unpleasant words. At 87% humidity (see gauge at right), it feels like I just took a shower and didn't bother to towel off before putting my clothes back on. Tomorrow it's suppose to get up to 92 degrees. When it's that hot and high humidity, they should just instruct people to wear their swimsuits all day. It's like swimming, but without all the hassle of finding a lake.
Dan, I have to tell you... I love the little league story on your blog. It reminds me of the painful summer rec softball days. Picture the gangliest short girl you can imagine. Skinny little legs and scrawny arms with a batters helmet bobbling around on top of my matching little head. If it wasn't for being afraid of getting hit by the ball, I probably would've been able to be shortstop or something equally cool. But no, I was usually outfield or catcher. Thankfully I didn't have to be catcher more than a couple of times since I could barely manage to see the pitcher, let alone the ball, out of the ginormous helmet.
So picture this, gangly little girl trying to look cool in the outfield. One of the hottest days of the summer. I probably should've drank some water or told somebody I wasn't feeling well. But hey, I had to blend in. When I knew I was losing it, I started walking towards the car, where I knew my mom was waiting. Who cares that it was mid-play, I was about to blow chunks. As I was walking, everything started to go black and white polka-dotted and the ground disappeared.
I fell forward and did a face plant into my mit... on the ground. "I caught it!" probably would've been the cool, whitty thing to say, but I don't remember anything beyond that.
Heatstroke is always a crowd pleaser. Perfect for 'blending in'.
Dan, I have to tell you... I love the little league story on your blog. It reminds me of the painful summer rec softball days. Picture the gangliest short girl you can imagine. Skinny little legs and scrawny arms with a batters helmet bobbling around on top of my matching little head. If it wasn't for being afraid of getting hit by the ball, I probably would've been able to be shortstop or something equally cool. But no, I was usually outfield or catcher. Thankfully I didn't have to be catcher more than a couple of times since I could barely manage to see the pitcher, let alone the ball, out of the ginormous helmet.
So picture this, gangly little girl trying to look cool in the outfield. One of the hottest days of the summer. I probably should've drank some water or told somebody I wasn't feeling well. But hey, I had to blend in. When I knew I was losing it, I started walking towards the car, where I knew my mom was waiting. Who cares that it was mid-play, I was about to blow chunks. As I was walking, everything started to go black and white polka-dotted and the ground disappeared.
I fell forward and did a face plant into my mit... on the ground. "I caught it!" probably would've been the cool, whitty thing to say, but I don't remember anything beyond that.
Heatstroke is always a crowd pleaser. Perfect for 'blending in'.
posted by Cristina | 12:30 AM
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