So you think you can lounge?

This guy.

Okay, first of all, you guys won.

I was just debating between going on a walk in 90-degree weather or scraping some Spew together and here we are.

I don't even care, I'll say it---I want fall. Even winter.

I know, I know...this sort of blasphemy should never be uttered. But this sort of chafing should never be suffered either, so there it is.

No to 90-degree days. Just no.

I was reading a brief snippet in EW and there was a segment titled "Why We Hate Summer" in which five comedians/actors (comedic actors?) gave brief explanations on why it is they hate this season that everyone else seems to love so much. Immediately I thought, these are my people.

It's not like I hate summer...I'm just usually over it before the Fourth of July even hits. Other than guilt-free Snickers ice cream bars (one must keep cool) and the fresh fruit, I'm not sure I see the appeal.

Actor Adam Scott (pictured above) who is currently featured on Parks and Recreation---which is such a good show--- though I first got to know him on HBO's short-lived softcore porn, er, drama "Tell Me You Love Me," which was also very good, though I think I'm the only person who ever watched it, and which also starred Sonya Walger a.k.a. Penny from Lost whom I love even more and who, it must be said, has the most beautiful rack---it was featured prominently on the show---in TV history as far as I'm concerned, was quoted as saying the following (breath):

"I enjoy being indoors. I enjoy laying on couches, snacking, and reading (watching TV). Summer sucks because it is the only season when, if I want to do this in the middle of a gorgeous day, people (my children) look at me like I'm a disgusting person. Well, guess what? It's 90 degrees out there, it's 68 degrees in here, and this episode of The Bachelor isn't going to watch itself."

Oh, Adam, thank you for finally saying it! (Even if you did incorrectly say 'laying' instead of lying...right? Right? Grammar Club? P.S. The run-on sentence about Adam was on purpose.) It was truly an epiphany for me to realize that I am not alone in what had always been my secret desire for summer slothdom. (Though, The Bachelor? I really think So You Think You Can Dance is far better summer fare.)

Okay, I like the occasional outdoor meal (that is if the mosquitoes aren't biting), and I've gained a new appreciation for the beach (if you are able to avoid getting sand anywhere on your body, it's not a bad way to cool down) but in general, the season is just hooooot. It's so fucking hot. (To clarify, "hooooot" was to be ready as a whiny "hot" and not as an owl's "hoot.")

These days summer just seems like the time of year when I have to shave my legs more often and I'm over it. OVER IT.

Also, I might be using the oppressive heat as rationalization for the day I had which included:

1) Reading the latest O Magazine from cover to cover. (Never caught up with the others and had to just embrace going out of order...which hurts in my OCD places, as you can well imagine.)

2) Getting a lethargic heat-induced nap in.

3) Taking a bath.

I realize that number three is not a technique that most people employ to cool down on a hot day. I actually did this before my apartment became an oven and it was more about de-stressing than de-boiling. I finally got back to NH at about 9:30 last night and I woke up this morning in a state I call, just-short-of-a-panic-attack.

I'm telling you, it's bizarre...I have a delayed reaction to intense situations. I was in a car accident once and immediately after being hit I had this instant sense of pure calm. Even an odd euphoria. Immediately after I pulled to the side of the road, I was out of my car checking to see if everyone involved was okay, including my then pregnant sister who was my passenger. (A teenager slid through a stop sign in the snow onto a main road and while my car---Dan's car-- was hit only at its end, just missing my sister's door, another car as well as the teenager's were totaled.) I just had immediate perspective about how lucky we all were that the only things hurt---in what could have been a tragic situation mere days before Christmas--- were machines. About an hour later, after all accident reports were filled out and insurance companies called, I had to pull over into a parking lot because all of a sudden I was shaken---my hands actually shaking, in fact---by the whole ordeal.

Such was the scenario this morning. I woke up today extremely tense, heart racing and close to tears, even though here we are in the calm after the storm that was this past week. I suppose it's a coping mechanism and I even see how it's helpful but shit, I felt like a crazy person.

I tried making lists of everything that needed doing---and having not been home for nine days nor most of the summer really, every thing is on that list---but I was too anxious to collect myself enough to compose even an e-mail. I struggled to calm down until I finally resigned myself to my Oprah and my bath.

And, gawd, do I feel good now. Just had to ride it out, I guess.

Plus, first thing tomorrow morning I have to get ready to jump in the car again to head back to RI for a friend's baby shower (and then right back to NH afterwards) so I really think the break was required.

And one O Magazine is the equivalent of four years of college these days so, really, I was bettering myself. In fact, it's what got me off the couch in the end, Oprah wanting me to live my best life and all.

Now it's Friday at 6:30pm and Dan and I are debating sticking to our plan of dinner and a movie or really wallowing in the muggy laziness (mine, not his...though nobody's arm is getting twisted) and ordering dinner in; normally a winter tradition, we call this Fajita Friday.

Decisions, Decisions...

What Would Oprah Do?

I think she'd want me to walk my hairy legs over to the couch for some So You Think You Can Dance.