Glasshouse

But It’s A Dry Heat

When I stepped out to get my car in the morning, the sudden heat blasted into my pores. It startled me for a second, but it felt different to the rest of the heat I felt over the summer. There was no humidity in the air, and the heat actually felt refreshing. This isn’t heat where even your sweat sweats as we’ve felt all through the summer. I can actually go around an walk in the heat and not be afraid of underboob sweat or pit stains that creep down to my ass.

It got up to 99.9F here in San Pedro, the third hottest day since 2010, but it could have been a lot worse.

Reading an entry of Anais Nin’s diary, I laughed out loud when I read this:

Nothing else about him interests me; his atmosphere of Middle West America homeliness, the cult of the ugly, the drinking, his dreams and talk, which I cannot even remember. Absolutely ordinary, youthful, too simple. – Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diaries of Anaïs Nin 1939-1947, July 13, 1940, p.21

I couldn’t help but think back to this passage, especially the phrase “the cult of the ugly” while watching the Cubs and the Cardinals in their playoff game.