She’s HOT!

The new guy has a hot ex.  How do I know?  We have a mutual friend; he called me; he told me.  The conversation went something like this:

MF:     He split with his wife about a year ago.

Me:     Yeah, I know.  We’ve been hanging out.

MF:     Wow, I should start hanging out with her.  She’s HOT!

Me:     Oh god, don’t tell me that!

MF:     Why, you don’t want to know that she’s hot?  What does it matter if she’s hot?    Because she’s really HOT.

Me:     (desperately) Hotter than me???

MF:     (long pause)……………ummmm……nooooooo. Not hotter than you (liar!)…but I       can’t really judge because you and I can’t ever have sex. But she’s hot!

Me:     I don’t want to know that!

After that, I don’t remember much.  I think he used the word “hot” about ten more times.  I also believe the word “MILF” was bandied about.

I’m feeling inadequate.

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Why is it so damn hot?

The neighborhood late-morning sounds finally wake me.  It’s the first Saturday of Summer – and already 110 degrees outside.  My bedroom is filled with white noise, reminding me to be thankful for the portable floor fan that has been keeping the heat at bay – blowing cool air across me throughout the night.  I pull open my bedroom door to see my cat stretched out long, nose to tail, on the cool, wood floor.  His head slightly rises as he lets out a murmured meow asking me, “why is it so damn hot?”  I lightly scratch his head and feel guilt for our lack of air conditioning. 

Sitting at the kitchen table, coffee cup between my hands, I contemplate my day.  I could sit here all day –  doors, windows, drapes and blinds pulled shut from the heat, but I know that by 5 or 6 ‘o’clock the setting sun will be pushing hard against the back windows, turning my little house into an oven.  I could drive to the beach, with the thousands of others who have similar thoughts, and position my beach chair a foot or so from the family of twelve. This isn’t really getting away from the heat, but embracing it, honoring it, using it in my favor (if I am properly lubricated with sunscreen).  This idea seems like too much work – find my bikini, towel, chair and sunhat, pack lunch, iPod, sunscreen and beach read, and I can’t forget to shave my legs. The heat has stolen my energy for this.  Still undecided, I push my chair back and make my way to the bathroom for a long, cool shower.