Too Darn Hot

You can't beat the heat - and I don't mean that in a good way. I mean you can't fight it off, it cannot be conquered; it must simply be accepted.

It's funny, because Texas is probably hotter than here on the whole, but you experience it so much less. Thanks to having been developed later and on a more robust power grid, most places in Texas (okay, everyplace in Texas) has central air. Here? Not so much. Subways do (though not the stations); movie theaters do; most big office buildings do; chain-type places - grocery stores, big shops, drug stores - usually do. Though today I was in a seriously under-cooled Rite Aid. Ick. Probably some cheap ploy to sell us fans.

In Texas you go from air-conditioned house to air-conditioned car to air-conditioned supermarket or restaurant or office. Here, you walk several blocks through swampy air to the subway, descend into the sticky station, wait, as your hair and makeup melt, board a deliciously frigid train, and then emerge into the stickiness again, melting further. Even the restaurant you're headed to may not have central air. Now, how did New York get that reputation for glamour? It ain't all Sex and the City, kids. 

At the moment I'm sitting on my bed, five inches from the fan, sweating. I arrived home from dinner this evening and decided that my ensemble - tank top and above-the-knee skirt - was too much clothing. I peeled those off and settled on a sundress, which, being backless, covered less flesh and was therefore cooler. This is what it's come to.

It doesn't have to be like this, of course. Money can buy all the comforts possible for the Anna Wintours, the Trumps of the world. That's where New York gets its reputation for glamour - from the people who get driven around in cars all day, and have central air at home and at work. The people, in short, who live like Texans. Ha!

It is sort of funny to consider... And yet, even if I've downgraded in standard of living, even if I deeply miss Austin and the people there sometimes, I wouldn't trade back. Right now, at this point in my life, I wouldn't trade the exhilaration - or the perspiration - of New York. Not for anything.