Richard:
"And thus I clothe my naked villany
With odd old ends stol'n out of holy writ,
And seem a saint, when most I play the devil."
King Richard III (I, iii, 336-338)"And thus I clothe my naked villany
With odd old ends stol'n out of holy writ,
And seem a saint, when most I play the devil."
It’s been decided, I shall become a nudist. With the recent heat influx of, roughly, a billion degrees Fahrenheit – I’ve decided that clothes are no longer necessary. While not a nudist currently, during this past week I kinda get their lifestyle. Foregoing clothes has become the only solution to my heat induced hysteria.
In all honestly, I really like clothes. I like fashion and pairing this shirt, with that skirt, and color coordinating my wardrobe. With all that said, this past week has made me want to throw every article of clothing away and go ala-buff.
Going outside feels like some greater being is saying “Here, Melissa! Enjoy my hot breath!” I watched sizzling flowers combust into yellow ash, a drowsy bird drop woozily low to the ground, drunk from the sun. I felt the pain of a squirrel holding up his hands to the sky asking for a swift death. The heat has been so gross, it’s all I talk about.
I say the words “gross” and “stifling” at least four times a day. And, if nothing else, it’s a great way to break up an awkward pause in a conversation. “God, it’s hot out there – am I right? Eh? It’s stifling! Man, this weather is gross! Did you hear its going to be 103 tomorrow? Gross. Ew! Hot, hot, hot! Gross.”
Aside from it being hot outside, I’ve become horribly attached to my air conditioning. If there were meetings for those addicted to Air Conditioning I would have to stand up, say my name, and confess that I have a problem. Once inside, away from the heat blanket that has become life, I go into an A.C coma. I forget my name, I forget where I am, but I remember the cool sweetness of my air-conditioner and how it loves me unconditionally.
I walked outside of air-conditioning for 1 minute yesterday, and when I went back in it looked as if I’d jumped into a pool of hot water. My face was red & my large hair, which takes forever to wet, was dripping. It took me 35 minutes of air-conditioning and two Sham-Wows to dry myself off from my dip in the heat.
So maybe, just maybe, if I become a nudist things would be cooler. Or maybe, just maybe, I’d still be hot and hearing the word “gross” being referenced about the weather & my socially unacceptable behavior.
A toast to cooling down,
The Lady