Long hot summer

It’s not even summer yet and I’m already hating summer. Bring back the frost, I say. I escaped Indonesia at the tender of six in the hope that I don’t again have to live in 37 degree weather. When summer comes, all I want to do is stay indoors. Or find a shade. And consume copious amounts of liquid. Spring and Autumn are my favourite seasons. Then comes winter.

You see, I’m a big sweater. During summer, I sweat standing still. Even in winter I sweat. All it takes is a little movement. And I hate that. I can only think of three activities where I don’t mind sweating to. For everything else, sweat stinks. Figuratively and literally.

During summer, I never feel clean. Even after a shower. It’s disgusting and I am not looking forward to it. Secondly, in winter, if you get cold you can put on as many layers as you want. In summer, if you get hot, naked is as little as you can wear. And if you go around naked in public, you may get arrested.

So in conclusion, summer means either staying indoors (which, with artificial climate control, is about the same as being indoors during winter) or going out in clothes and sweat and feel disgusting or going out naked, sweating less but risking a police arrest.

There’s really nothing to like about that.

__________

One friend has stopped blogging. Another doesn’t want to blog anymore. I don’t get it. Why does blogging have to be taken so seriously? Why can’t you blog when you feel like it and when you don’t, just leave it there in case you feel like it on a later date? Bloggers need to relax about what they write, how others read it, etc. There are lots of blogs I don’t like reading. I’m sure there are lots of readers who don’t like my blog. So what? We keep writing. In the beginning, most bloggers go through some level of blogging anxiety. Then eventually, if you persist, you get over it and stop caring or you grow an enormous ego and think that everything you write is brilliant.

Just take it easy. And you’ll be fine.

__________

Sleepwalker’s da Vinci Code diary Part 3

I’ve finished. It kinda ran out of steam towards the later parts of the book and the ending was rather disappointing. But still an enjoyable experience overall. It felt similar to when I had just finished reading Silence of the Lambs for some reason.

I’m still sticking with my main criticism, which is that there is absolutely no way a locksmith wouldn’t be able to open a cryptex. As a locksmith once told me, ‘if it can be locked, it can be opened.’ (Actually a locksmith never told me that but it just carries more credibility coming from a locksmith. This, however, just took all that credibility away.) Also, my friend suggested (this one is real) ‘couldn’t you just freeze the vinegar?’

Too right, my friend.

__________

OK, Ricki-Lee is gone. NOW do you believe me that Australians are morons?