The Writing

14 September, 2012


Someone on my FB this morning posted a picture of the US in which only Texas was identified by name, and all the other regions had labels like boring and crap. California was singled out by shape and labeled hideous. Ah, Texans. Funny people. Leaving aside the bizarre tribalism that leads one to identify with one's  state, I suspect hideous refers to the politics of California, or the imagined politics (in which we are all dreaded liberals), or perhaps just Hollywood values. Probably not the weather, although much of CA is desert and much is cold and wet and only some of it is Mediterranean and temperate and oceanside, which is somehow the default when people imagine California.

But today, mid-September, is our SoCal midsummer and so yes, today the weather is hideous. Which is to say--it's a functionally cool 80 in the house, with fans, and 99 outside. At sunset. Yes. At least it's a dry heat. And this wave of hell should stop by Sunday, at which point the highs outside will exceed the current temperature inside by a couple of degrees. Last year, and the 7 years prior, we weathered (haha) the Santa Anas (which this isn't, quite, having spared us the desert winds) in the old student apartment, which got up to 96 inside once, while it was 101 outside. No AC. (We have AC in this place, but 80 is survivable.  I draw the line any hotter than that.)

It is the sort of night in which one consumes ice cream and frozen fruit and beer, and plots which really long movie one (and one's spouse) will see tomorrow. So far we're down to Spider Man 3D at the discount theatres, and Bourne Legacy at the full price, 2x as expensive theatre closest to the brew pub where we will likely drink eat dinner. Spider Man is sufficiently uninteresting to both of us that we'll probably do Bourne. So there.  That's plotted. Time for the ice cream.

And let it be noted here: Texas, and Texans, can never ever bitch about the weather in any other state. Ever.