The silver linings of : beach, burned, and bummed

"I'm from south Texas. It's over 100˚ regularly. I lived in Mississippi. It's the upper 90˚s and humid as all get out almost every day. I lived in Virginia. The mountains block the breeze and creates a gourmet cafe for mosquitoes.  I can handle New York City and its 85˚. Bring it on." 

Jeez, I can be dumb. I thought the heat in this city would be nothing compared to what I'm used to. Honestly, I am from south Texas where it is over 100˚ on a regular basis. There is one essential difference between south Texas, Mississippi, Virginia and NYC, though. Two words. Central Air. I never knew how dear, how wonderful, and how special this gift of modernity was until I had it no more.  Window units are more of a tease than a luxury. 

When you first walk into my apartment after the 67 steps it feels amazing. "Ahh, AC!" And then you close the door, get yourself a nice cold water or an iced tea, have a seat, and realize the coolness you felt upon entering has somehow mysteriously disappeared. Where did it go? I'd love to find out and move there. 

To beat the heat, one might think one can go to any local coffee shop or restaurant. WRONG. Many places in Ft. Greene, Brooklyn, seem to think that AC is only for the weak or the tourist-at-heart. So, I'm stuck in my blazing apartment or stuck outside under a tree pretending I feel a nice and cool nonexistent breeze. There has to be another way to cool off in  the most happenin' city on the planet. 

There is. 

BEACH.

It's called Robert Moses Beach and it's only an hour and 15 minutes away by train on the Long Island Railroad. 

My co-worker from William Perry (my wonderful school that I taught at in VA) is originally from Long Island and she invited me to go to the beach for the day with her and a friend. I was ecstatic to get out of the city, have a normal day of summer vacation, and see a friendly face. I hopped on the train and had an enjoyable ride venturing deeper into Long Island than I had ever gone before all the while getting lost in a good book.  I got to the station, Katie picked me up, and off we went. 

The beach was especially relaxing due to the clouds, the crashing waves, and the comfy beach chair I planted myself in as soon as we hit the sand. There was conversation, laughs, reading, and contented silence. I ventured into the water once and was knocked on my fanny by the strong waves after only being in about a foot of water. So, after cooling off (I mean, I did fall on purpose....) I went back to my chair and didn't get up again. 

 BURNED.

After a joyful day of reading, people watching, and relaxing, I headed back to the city cool, comforted, and tired. The train ride home wasn't quite as nice as the one going out, though. 

My skin felt all stuck and dry and scratchy. 

Yup. I got burned. Boy, did I get burned. 

 The greatest part was that I was burned in the irregular and comical patterns of someone who put on sunscreen but put it on very lazily. A white patch here, a red patch there, I look like a picnic blanket.  At least on my walk home from the subway I bought some aloe-vera gel (I hate it when drug store clerks look at the gel, look at your burn, and say "Got burned, huh?" It makes me want to say "DUH!") I got home and immediately put it in the fridge so it could get icy.  The freezing gel on my sizzling skin feels so nice. It makes me feel like it is almost worth the burn just to have the relief from the gel. Coincidentally, the cold gel is also a nice way to stay cool in my lukewarm apartment. 

BUMMED. 

Friday morning bright and early I took my little sunburned-self to Penn Station to catch a Bolt Bus to DC where I would catch a train to Charlottesville where I would catch some last goodbyes with friends and catch Alex's show The 39 Steps. 

 

The bus rolled in 7 minutes late (which is the only reason I made it) , we were all boarded and ready to go within minutes. All except the driver. Oh, no. He took his sweet time getting a snack, talking to the Bolt Bus representative on the sidewalk, and stretching his legs. 40 minutes later, we were on our way. About 40 minutes after that the beautiful central air on the bus decided it needed a nap and fizzled out. So, a bus full of hot, stuffy, and grumpy passengers were all hoping we could get to our destination without a further hitch so we could get out of the Sahara and get on with our lives. 

 We hit traffic in NYC. We hit traffic in Delaware. We hit traffic at the rest stop. We hit traffic in DC. And the AC was nowhere to be found. 

Needless to say, I didn't make my train to Charlottesville. With no way to get to Charlottesville within 24 hours, I had a choice to make. 

Pay for a hotel, spend an entire day stuck in DC by myself for only 12 hours in Charlottesville? I don't think so. I'm burnt to a crisp, crushed because I don't get to see my husband's show, and am now headed back to NYC where I just left. And for what?  A peek at Union Station in DC. Oh, joy. 

Silver lining from my train last night.  Literally. 

13 hug-less and husband-less hours later, I walked back into my tepid apartment and was thankful that I didn't have to spend the night in a hotel and that I got home safely. I'm thankful that  I have a sweet little dog who was so excited to see me you'd have thought I'd been gone for years rather than hours. I'm thankful I now have time to hang my curtains before my job starts on Monday. And the brightest silver lining to all of this is that Alex comes home tomorrow. 

And yes. There is a silver lining to the heat. Its called "I've been sweating so much from walking, stair climbing, and subwaying in this heatwave that I've lost 7 pounds". It's like living in a Bikram Yoga studio. 

In the end, the best way I've found to stay cool and have a little peace, ease, and comfort is to have a seat, have a glass of sweet tea, and look for that silver lining...just look for it wearing sunscreen that you've applied in a consistent and complete manner.