I HATE THE HEAT.
I really don't like being hot. Or sweaty. Or shvitzing. Boiling.
There was this rule in my house that I couldn't complain more then let's say ten times about the heat. Well that rule was broken about four minutes after I woke up in the summer.
I don't dislike many things but the few things I do dislike I am pretty vocal about... animals (DOGS), heat, animals, animals, heat, heat, heat, heat, dust, dirty feet, heat, animals, animals, heat, humidity, humidity... you get the point .
Basically whoever had the grand idea that I move to Givat Shmuel, home of the humidity, should be sued and have a lifetime prison sentence.
Just last week the weather was still breezy and beautiful (Covergirl. Sorry I had to). And then all of a sudden this week all hell broke loose.
Hot is an understatement.
For me anything above 75 I just shut down. 76 degrees? Game over. I hibernate.
I guess I'm the species that was created in order to show people that bears have an opposite. Your welcome.
Oh gosh it is hot. And then humidity is just beyond words. And for once when I say it's beyond words it really is. So I will stop talking about it now because it is so beyond words. BEYOND.
My friend asked me a few months ago what she should bring to Israel when she comes in the summer. I told her don't bother bringing anything. Save money on luggage and weight allowances and save money on your life, health, and gallons of deodorant. Just don't bring anything.
You know what when it's 100 degrees plus 100% humidity I think everyone will understand if you go without nothing. And whoever doesn't understand needs help.
Anyways, I'm not blogging to ramble about the hellish next six months that await me. If you want to hear more of this come to my apartment where I will be sitting on the couch staring at the air conditioning wishing I could just live in it. Yes, live in it. Somehow fit my bed and closet into the little unit. When there is a will there is a way, and there is very much a will.
Pretty much today I realized that I refuse to spend the next six months wearing baggy shirts and loose skirts. The heat may steal my capability to put on makeup (because it will just slowly glide off my face) and my ability to smile, but I am not letting this weather take away my ability to look good. I am not letting this weather to change who I am. To change my identity.
My dearest clothes and I will prevail against this nightareish weather.
So today I put on a white pencil skirt, a cute funky green shirt, earrings, sandals, and seeing that my hair was going to become a frizzy, electrocute-esque situation I figured I might as well wear a headband so when my hair explodes it will take place behind my head and not around my face.
Anyways, this is not a fashion and hair blog (P.S.- in terms of fashion- New Yorkers run to Joe Fresh immediately. I can't stop advocating for this store. Props Canada) so I'll stop, but in a nutshell April 30, 2013 I put in more effort then usual to prove a point that I will not let the heat defeat me.
Oh and keep in mind I was wearing a headband.
Get to class and my teacher is taking attendance, he says my name, I say "yo" well actually I say "kayn" but that's besides the point.
Then he says something in Hebrew to me.
Now I think I know the language of the Hebrew man, but only when I am prepared. You know I got to mentally prepare myself before being spoken to/ listening or speaking Hebrew, but once I'm prepared I am set to go. Ha, what an overstatement.
Basically in this situation I was so not prepared. So so so not prepared. And that is an understatement.
So I say "ma" (what) and he said whatever he was saying again.
All I heard was "at"(you) and he was pointing to me.
Being the genius that I am I thought he was asking me something about my glasses since I haven't worn them in forever (I was giving my contacts another chance yet again, but sadly it's just not love at first or second or eighth sight with them).
Being the double genius that I am I say in English "oh my glasses? Ya I just started wearing them again for the board."
Things wrong with what I said
1) It's in English. Like what possessed me to think it was ok to speak in English and to speak so confidently in English is just beyond my comprehension.
It's like your in Stern and a teacher asks you something in English and you answer in Chinese like it's nobody's business. Well that was me.
2) My first time speaking in this class. This class with about 70 people just looking at me like I escaped from an institution.
Yup that's me. The English speaking, glasses wearing, institution escapee. Hi.
Having no idea what he said and seeing that the girl next to me thought this was hysterical I asked her what the heck did he ask?
I had a bowl of Cheerios right before class so for all I knew maybe I had a cheerio stuck to my face. Out of six billion people in the world I sure that situation has happened to maybe two people and I was willing to be the third. Anything to make it into the Guinness Book of World Records.
Or maybe the pimple which is casually getting really comfortable on the left side of my face just blew up. I mean it's only a matter of time really. (as I have said makeup just falls off in this weather so I'm not even bothering with cover up).
No no. Turns out he asked me if I was married.
"at hitchatant"?
Hmmmm why would I be married? Ohhh that's right because I was wearing a headband. Ya a headband the size of my pinky.
I have a field trip with this class on Thursday so I am in serious debate if I should "cover" (aka wear a headband) on Thursday and play along with this "I'm married business" or if I should be super scandalous and go uncovered.
I think I need to start thinking of a story as to how I met him. You know in case anyone asks.
I'm telling you Blair Waldorf would have a serious issue if she ever moved to Israel.
I guess I haven't worn headbands in such a long time (10th grade me would be so ashamed to read that sentence) that all of a sudden when I put something on my head I am a Mrs.
But no no. Not married. NOT MARRIED.
I have given up many things for this country. Leaving my fam jam, leaving English, leaving cranberry sauce, swifter wet mops, American garbage bags, Trader Joe's (especially their cranberry oatmeal cookies), Dunkin.
But there is one thing I am not giving up. My headbands. I will fight to the death to once again allow single ladies (cue to song and dance) to parade around in their headbands. Big headbands. Small headbands. Blue, red and purple headbands. Bows, flowers, sequined headbands.
I will make sure we can wear our headbands proudly without being asked the dreaded question "at hitchatant"?
We may not be married, according to some we may be living insignificant lives due to our lack if a significant other, but if all I have in my life at the age of 120 are my headbands I will be a happy person (note: this is total poetic license. That must be one pathetic life if that's all I have left, but poetic licence always rules.)
And now it is time for me to take off my white beautiful headband after a long day and get some beauty rest. In 90 degree weather.
No comments:
Post a Comment