Drop It Like It's Hot. Or Don't. Whatever.

All the peeps without air conditioning, throw your hands up at me!

The hottest I’ve ever been was summer of ‘01. That’s the summer I spent living in an (un-a/ced) attic apartment in Cambridge, MA. By day, I sold Harvard shot glasses to Japanese businessmen. By night, I stared at the slanted ceiling and sweated.

That summer, my beta fish Henry met a slow death when the water evaporated from his bowl. I didn’t notice the level getting lower until it was too late. Thereafter, I returned to pesce-vegetarianism, because I figured if I’m ruthless enough to suffocate a fish, I’m ruthless enough to fry it up. With my karma, I’ll be reincarnated as a tuna.

Honesdale tricked me with its seasons. I arrived in September, when the trees were beginning to shed. By late October, we had snow flurries, and I cranked my heat to 75. On the day of the first real snow, sometime in early November, I played Harry Connick Jr.’s “Let It Snow” five times in a row and put an extra blanket on my bed.

Four months of intense winter followed.

But I was prepared -- this is the North, after all. My red Victoria’s Secret sweater didn’t look too bulky, and it went well with my tall, black boots. Snow angels? Hot chocolate? Bring it on.

Spring lasted about two days. One May afternoon, I took my manuscripts outdoors and let the blossoming crab apple trees shower all over me. I pretended I was in the wedding scene from Sense and Sensibility. Tree branches arching as swords overhead, pink petals floating like confetti. Oh, Colonel Brandon! Isn’t life marvelous? Aren’t we lucky?

Scene change. Now, I’m in Freddy Goes to Hell.

And I do feel Kreuger-esque, with my make-up melting in the humidity as I snarl at passersby. This evening I searched online for psychology studies linking heat and aggression. I recalled from a social psych course that the two variables are connected somehow. The Los Angeles race riots occurred in the summertime, as did the O.J. Simpson car chase. Could be coincidental, but a few studies indicate significant correlation between a high violent crime rate and high temperatures. These are a couple of the sites I browsed:

http://www.driesen.com/temperature_and_violence.htm
http://www.anger-management.net/angerpage.htm

Did I demolish the punching bag at karate tonight? No. I was too hot. For me, the weather is merely bringing apathy and lack of motivation. I only have enough energy to sweat.

Which is why I’m ending this essay now. I’m going to stick my head in the fridge.