Simmer down now. It’s officially my favorite time of year: FALL. Some of you reading this may think this post is coming in a bit late, as it’s already mid-October, but if you live in Houston, Texas, you know that we are only just now getting our first taste of the fall season.
It’s been 95+ degrees here since mid-May, which, if you don’t know, actually means that we had a fairly “mild” summer. That’s right – 100+ degrees for anything less than three full months is a reprieve. It’s not just the heat, though, that gets you. It’s the humidity that comes with it here in the H. The two are a package deal. If you are not soaking wet within one minute of stepping outside, you are a freak of nature and I wish I had your genes.
Things you can’t do in Houston in the summer:
For months (from May through September), you will hear residents of our fair city lament the heat. It comes up in every conversation. Every. Single. Conversation. EVER. Because who can even think about anything else?! And for those few months I absolutely forget why I still live here.
People from other cities are always saying, “Are you kidding?? You’re SO lucky to have so much sun!” And what I have to explain is that it’s too hot. Like too hot to swim. Think about that. Too hot to get into the water and splash around, because what should be a way to cool off turns into a human crock pot.
What I have discovered about myself over the years is that I have a much lower heat tolerance than normal humans. Not that other people enjoy sweating. I mean, who really wants to leak water? I just hate it the most. And the thing is, I’m a sweater. Always have been, always will be. Which means I am bravely embracing this not-so-pretty shortfall of mine every time I step outside. Guys, hold your applause; I’m not a hero...yet. There are a lot of things I can take, but being overly hot without a proper cooling mechanism is not one of them. And quite honestly, nothing drives me crazier than being hot in a place that should be properly cooled (e.g., restaurants, planes, office buildings, and really any other public place where someone else has control of the temperature). If you want to see me lose it, put me in a hot place without anyone apologizing. My normally cool and collected demeanor turns murderous in 0.2 seconds, taking rage to an 11, because really, it’s about injustice.
But on this fateful day, the high dropped below 80, and it was a crisp 55 degrees this morning! So it is officially fall, and no one loves sweater weather more than me. NO ONE.
I live for heather grey cable knit. And red and orange leaves. And pumpkin ANYTHING. To me, the smell of pumpkin pie embodies home, happiness and comfort…even though we never had it in my home growing up (hi mom), and I really only eat it once a year. And, irony of ironies, I am NOT a fan of pumpkin spice lattes. I mean, I’m not against the idea of them per se. I just don’t like that everyone else likes them.
It’s been 95+ degrees here since mid-May, which, if you don’t know, actually means that we had a fairly “mild” summer. That’s right – 100+ degrees for anything less than three full months is a reprieve. It’s not just the heat, though, that gets you. It’s the humidity that comes with it here in the H. The two are a package deal. If you are not soaking wet within one minute of stepping outside, you are a freak of nature and I wish I had your genes.
Things you can’t do in Houston in the summer:
- Stand outside with an iced beverage you actually want to stay iced.
- Participate in any kind of activity without mandatory hydration breaks.
- Not sweat.
For months (from May through September), you will hear residents of our fair city lament the heat. It comes up in every conversation. Every. Single. Conversation. EVER. Because who can even think about anything else?! And for those few months I absolutely forget why I still live here.
People from other cities are always saying, “Are you kidding?? You’re SO lucky to have so much sun!” And what I have to explain is that it’s too hot. Like too hot to swim. Think about that. Too hot to get into the water and splash around, because what should be a way to cool off turns into a human crock pot.
What I have discovered about myself over the years is that I have a much lower heat tolerance than normal humans. Not that other people enjoy sweating. I mean, who really wants to leak water? I just hate it the most. And the thing is, I’m a sweater. Always have been, always will be. Which means I am bravely embracing this not-so-pretty shortfall of mine every time I step outside. Guys, hold your applause; I’m not a hero...yet. There are a lot of things I can take, but being overly hot without a proper cooling mechanism is not one of them. And quite honestly, nothing drives me crazier than being hot in a place that should be properly cooled (e.g., restaurants, planes, office buildings, and really any other public place where someone else has control of the temperature). If you want to see me lose it, put me in a hot place without anyone apologizing. My normally cool and collected demeanor turns murderous in 0.2 seconds, taking rage to an 11, because really, it’s about injustice.
But on this fateful day, the high dropped below 80, and it was a crisp 55 degrees this morning! So it is officially fall, and no one loves sweater weather more than me. NO ONE.
I live for heather grey cable knit. And red and orange leaves. And pumpkin ANYTHING. To me, the smell of pumpkin pie embodies home, happiness and comfort…even though we never had it in my home growing up (hi mom), and I really only eat it once a year. And, irony of ironies, I am NOT a fan of pumpkin spice lattes. I mean, I’m not against the idea of them per se. I just don’t like that everyone else likes them.
Sexy. Pilgrim. Mind BLOWN. But nothing says fall happiness more than making it rain with a big pile of leaves in 60 degree weather. Or slutty Halloween costumes. Or Thanksgiving dinner. I’m going to save my Thanksgiving gush for, well, Thanksgiving. But for now, FALL.
The time has come for every summer grumpkin to throw open those doors and rejoin society, to take their football viewing to the streets (or to a restaurant patio) and to do it all with a smile. What I mean is, when fall finally hits, you see every office and cubicle worker longingly looking out of their office windows and considering taking a Ferris Bueller style ditch day (NOTE: I didn’t include high school students here – you jerks JUST got back from summer vacation, so stop complaining…and stay in school for as long as you can. TRUST me.). You see people that would otherwise be in a huff over humanity in general and the oppressive heat suddenly melt from within and start smiling at each other. That’s what fall is really about - uniting cultures. Just ask the pilgrims.
So fall, welcome to Texas. We could not be more thrilled to host you. Please stay as long as you like...or forever <giggle, giggle>. But SERIOUSLY.
The time has come for every summer grumpkin to throw open those doors and rejoin society, to take their football viewing to the streets (or to a restaurant patio) and to do it all with a smile. What I mean is, when fall finally hits, you see every office and cubicle worker longingly looking out of their office windows and considering taking a Ferris Bueller style ditch day (NOTE: I didn’t include high school students here – you jerks JUST got back from summer vacation, so stop complaining…and stay in school for as long as you can. TRUST me.). You see people that would otherwise be in a huff over humanity in general and the oppressive heat suddenly melt from within and start smiling at each other. That’s what fall is really about - uniting cultures. Just ask the pilgrims.
So fall, welcome to Texas. We could not be more thrilled to host you. Please stay as long as you like...or forever <giggle, giggle>. But SERIOUSLY.
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