The Puppet Master

We all know them, many of us have dealt with one or more. Some of you are currently being controlled by one.
Their skills are wide and varied all coordinated for one goal and one goal only.
To get what they want through manipulation.
They use whispered suggestions, seemingly innocent comments, quietly pushing their chosen puppet to do their bidding.
They are always looking toward the end goal and have infinite patience subtly prodding their prey down the path to achieve the end result that they want.

There is a part of me that almost respects their machinations. The venomous, vitriolic part of me that wishes that I was able to manipulate others to do my bidding.
Is this ability to manipulate others a learned or inherent ability? I don't know. All I know is that I am terrible at it.
Don't get me wrong, I have tried manipulation. When you attempt to manipulate others, you have to have an end goal, a clear path on how to get there and the ability to subtly get people convinced that what you want them to do is actually their own idea.

D's step-monster is an expert manipulator. She has worked D's dad over so many times that he doesn't know which way is up and which way is down.
Her end goal? She doesn't want me or D around. At all.
When Step-Monster met Butthead (D's dad) we had not been together for about 8 months. I had broken up with Butthead for a plethora of reasons that include immaturity, unreliablity and his absolute incapability of not involving his mother in our relationship. The fact that he consistently would quit a job without having another one lined up was another factor.
Step-Monster felt threatened by me and D. She was afraid that if I wanted to get Butthead back that she would lose him. What she didn't know is that I didn't want him back. At all. I was done.
To appease his new girlfriend, Butthead started treating me like shit. He would act like I had the IQ of an amoeba. He would refuse to listen to anything that I had to say in regards to raising our child together that didn't fit into the world that he lived in. The world that revolved around Butthead and how he thought things should go.
Step-Monster has consistenly poisoned Butthead against me and has worked her hardest to make D feel worthless. She has told him that he is stupid, that she wishes that he was never born, that I am a horrible mother and tells him that the whopping $47 that I get per week for child support is putting them in the poor house.

Butthead has called me names in front of our child. He has called me a stupid bitch, an idiot, a money hungry gold digger and many, many other names.For years I tried my hardest to get along with them. I thought that if I was nice and tried not to make waves that we could get along even if just for D's sake. When I found out that Step-Monster was emotionally abusing my child, I was done.
I let them walk all over me like a doormat because I just wanted everything to be amicable. I allowed myself to be manipulated until I woke up and realized what was happening. Step-Monster was doing everything that she could to destroy my child.
Butthead is still being manipulated. He refuses to believe that Step-Monster is doing anything to harm his child. Until he wakes up it is my job alone to protect my child.

The only comfort that I have is that eventually Step-Monster will get what she deserves. It won't happen by my hands. I refuse to stoop to her level. But I have no doubt that she will get hers in the end. Because what comes around goes around. You manipulate people enough, you end up being manipulated and losing everything.
Karma is a bitch.

104.1

That is how high D's temperature hit today. Needless to say, I am at home, taking care of my sweet son who missed his first day of school today.
Hopefully his temp won't get any higher or I will have to take him to the E.R.
If you can just say a prayer that he gets better quickly, I would really appreciate it.

Rollercoaster Zen

The people who know me would tell you that I am a pretty emotionally grounded person. I don't lose my temper very easily nor to I cry all of the time (except at sappy stuff). I do tend to get frustrated easily, but that is more from impatience than anything else. If I ask my son D to do something I expect him to do it right away. If I have to tell him to do it 5 times, I start to get frustrated and then I might holler (I have always loved that redneck word) a bit.
I tend to not let things really get to me. Some people might be surprised that people yelling doesn't really bother me. Even kicking something out of frustration doesn't even make me blink twice. Now, if you throw something at me you are toast, but I don't really get upset by displays of emotions.
There is a very good reason for this. My sister Blondie is an extremely emotional person.

Growing up she would lose it for pretty much any reason, even an imagined one. Many years later we found out that she is bi-polar and tends towards the manic side.
Here are two examples:
We grew up in a house with one bathroom. I was taking a bath one day and she wanted to come in and go to the bathroom. I didn't have a problem with that, but she wanted to have her friend come in too so that they could continue to talk. She got angry when I told her that her friend couldn't come in and started screaming at me through the door. She then proceeded to kick the bathroom door down while I was still in the bathtub.
We were sitting down to a dinner of spaghetti and my brother Neal was taunting Blondie. She got so mad that she threw her fork at Neal and it stabbed him in his nose. Neal had to remove it as it didn't just stab and drop. It actually stayed there.
There are so many times that my sister has gone off the deep end that it tends to run together in a blurry haze. Because of this I don't really let people being angry or frustrated affect me in a negative manner.
I was always that one that tried to unsuccesfully reason with Blondie when she would "rage". It could last for a few minutes or continue for hours and hours. I learned that the best course of action was to sit there quietly, let her rage and then when she was calm tell her what I had to say.
There were a few times that she physically assaulted someone (usually my mother) but she never came after me. Probably because I was 5 years younger than she was and she would have wiped the floor with me.
I never really understood why she was unable to control her anger. It never made sense to me why she would flip out at little things and blow everything so out of proportion. At least I never understood until I was pregnant.
I had an unplanned pregnancy when I was 23. At the time I was living at home with my mom and step-father. My mom was VERY supportive and was there for me every step of the way.
My step-sister Meg was living at home as well. She was just divorced and is mildly metally handicapped from a horrible car accident. She has the emotions of a 12 year old.
Meg and I had been having a few problems. Basically I wouldn't coddle her like everyone else did and she didn't like it. She started talking about me behind my back to people who she knew would tell me. It got back to me and I sat down and told her that it bothered me that she was doing this and that if she had anything to say to me that she needed to come to me directly.
A few days later I was in the kitchen making my lunch and I heard my mom tell Meg to stop talking about me behind my back (she was talking to her brother Steve - my step-brother). I heard this and something snapped.
I SAW RED!!!!!
I tore into the living room where they were sitting and started yelling at her. I told her to keep her f*cking mouth shut and that I was tired of her talking about me behind my back.
I then proceeded to call her some not so nice names and told her to stand up so that I could kick her @ss. All this while I was 5 months pregnant.
Steve started getting in to the argument and then I turned on him, insulted him, quesitoned his sexual preference (he was so effeminate I couldn't help it - the man used to french braid his own hair) and continued to yell.
My mother stood in front of me telling me to stop and calm down. She was looking at me like I had grown 3 heads. Later I realized that she was looking at me that way because I was behaving exactly how my sister did. I calmed down and went into the other room and promptly started to cry. I actually felt really bad that I lost my temper to that extent.
Growing up with someone with such a volitile temper has allowed me to develop the ability to deal with other peoples anger or frustration more easily than others. I have a friend who has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. She asks me on a regular basis how I put up with her.
What she doesn't realize is that I don't even notice 90% of it. I am used to acclimating myself to others and having empathy for their situation makes me want to work hard so that they feel comfortable around me.
I think that I have something to offer anyone going through a difficult time. Whether it be some heartfelt advice, a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on. Anyone who knows me should never feel like they have to keep everything in. If I can be a help in any way to someone who is struggling it makes my life more worthwhile.

Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?

Do you ever have that moment where you don't know whether to feel relief or horror?
I was on the freeway driving to meet Jefferson at the movies tonight and I saw this:



As I drove towards the accident I had all of these thought running through my head.
What happened? Was anyone hurt? Do I know anyone who drives a maroon mini-van? I hope that everyone is ok.
I said a quick prayer and then noticed that I was driving over the skid marks from the mini-van. My eyes followed the deep furrows in the median where the van crossed the freeway and as I looked a bit closer I saw something that I hoped that I wouldn't.
A yellow shroud on the edge of the road about 25 feet from where I was. I could see the outline of a person underneath. One leg slightly turned out, the other straight. So still. So quiet.
I was there 20 minutes after the accident happened. It could have been me as easily as it was that person. Only by the grace of God am I here. I can only pray that the person who lost their life today is in whatever heaven they believed in.
Please take a minute to let your loved ones know how much you care about them.

Part Of Me

I had a discussion the other day that really bothered me. It didn’t start out as a serious discussion. It was more of a “How old were you your first time” discussion. Then someone dropped the “R” bomb.
One of the girls who was participating in the discussion said that her “first time” was when she was raped at the age of 19. She then commented again that she was raped a second time at the age of 21 or 22.
This was extremely disturbing to me. It really started the wheels turning in my head and I thought back to all of the discussions that I have had with other women in the past.
If you are a girl, you already know this, but just in case you aren’t I will break it down for you. Women talk about past sexual history – good and bad.
When I think back to all of the women that I have talked to where the subject of sex abuse or molestation has come up, I can remember only 2 that have definitively told me that they have never been molested or raped (this includes date rape).
What kind of world am I raising my son in where only 2 out of many women haven’t been harmed in a sexual manner? Unfortunately I am not one of those two.
I was 10 years old when my cousin, Ben, and I were hiking by an elementary school and he held me down and raped me. At the age of 10!!! He was 16 or 17. I didn’t tell anyone for a long time because I felt all of the classic feelings like it was my fault or that I did something to cause him to hurt me. I hadn’t even had a menstrual period or hit puberty. I was in 4th grade.
We were going to family counseling because my parents were going through a divorce when I disclosed to my therapist what had happened. She told me that I needed to tell my mom and I did. All I have to say is that my mom freakin’ rocks. She reminded me of a valkyrie running head on into battle. It didn’t matter to her that she wasn’t handling the situation quietly like was suggested by Ben’s side of the family. He had hurt her little girl and there was no way that she was going to allow them to sweep it under the rug.
My mom called the police and my cousin was arrested and charged with sexual assault. I had to go to the police station and pick out a drawing of what my cousin looked like naked. They were basic anatomy drawings and were depicting different ages. That was really disturbing for me and I still remember it vividly.
The hardest part of the entire situation is that my father did not believe me. It was his sister’s son who raped me. His favorite nephew. Since my mom and dad were getting a divorce it probably was a difficult time for him as well, but for him to deny it broke my heart. I had always been a daddy’s girl.
I was too young to go and testify in court, but they used my police interviews as evidence. Ben eventually admitted what he did for a plea deal and was sentenced to probation and counseling. My aunt and uncle had begged the courts to go easy on him since he was a first time offender.
I wish that I could say that he never re-offended. I wish that the court system actually protected the innocent and future victims. But it didn’t work. The next time he molested a 4 year old little girl that his girlfriend at the time was babysitting.
I was still pretty young when that happened and to be honest I don’t remember what the outcome of that case was. What I do know is that he ended up paying dearly for what he did.
I have forgiven Ben for what he did to me. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to tell you about it now. I wouldn’t be able to move on with my life.
It is sometimes cathartic to tell others about my experience. It helps the scars fade even more. Sometimes I don't even remember that they are there.
A couple of years ago I was talking to my Aunt. Ben's mom. She asked me to forgive her. She said that she knew that Ben had done what I said he had but that she thought that she could help him. She said that she knew that she was wrong and that she was so sorry for causing me more pain. I was her favorite niece and for a long time she was in denial that Ben would ever hurt me that way.
At first I was angry. Why did it take her so long? Didn't she know that her betrayal hurt me too?
I did forgive her and after I said the words a weight that I never even knew was there lifted off my shoulders.
I know that I have scars that will never completely be healed, but they have faded with time and have helped mold me into the person that I am today. I am a stronger person today then I probably ever would have been without being violated.
It is a strange dichotomy when you almost want to thank the person who harmed you the deepest. Because without the pain, I wouldn’t have had anything to overcome. I wouldn’t be me.
At the age of 30 Ben died of a heart attack in his bedroom. He died alone. I am sure that he felt that terror of being helpless to stop what was happening. In the end he received a little taste of what he inflicted on others.

Game Night And Fabulous Friends

I haven't really enjoyed going out the the bar or the club for over 10 years. I grew up near a military base where you could get into the clubs at 18. So, by the time I was 21, I was pretty much done with clubbing.
At the age of 32 I just find it to be tasteless and a bit tacky for women to go out almost every weekend to the club. Other than to karaoke, I can't remember exactly when the last time that I went out to the club was. Yes, it has been that long.
I tend to be a bit of a homebody. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy going out with my friends to dinner, movies, plays, concerts, the beach etc. I just do not like clubbing (which is good because most of my friends don't either).
To be social, one of my favorite things to do is to invite people to my home for dinner and for game night. I usually have a game night about every other month or so. In the winter it is usually once per month.
There are always different people who converge from different areas of my life and occasionally this is the first time that they have met. That was the case last night between Cute Co-Worker (whom I will refer to from now as Jefferson) and my friend Rico.
Jefferson and I have been spending a bit of time together. We have been out on 4 outings together; just the two of us. Some would call this dating but we have decided not to put a label on our spending time together. Suffice it to say that we enjoy each others company and have a lot of fun together. I laugh a lot when we are with each other and he seems to enjoy my humor as well. Oh, and he is a great kisser :)
Since Jefferson and I work together, we have been keeping a low profile on the outings. Not because we are embarrassed, but because there is a lot of gossiping at work and some people don't know when to keep their mouths shut. If someone asked me outright if Jefferson and I were spending time together I would tell them yes.
Rico was my first friend when I moved to Michigan and is an awesome friend. Rico and I do not work together and a while ago I told him about an outing that Jefferson and I had been on. Rico hadn't met Jefferson and being a fabulous gay man grilled me like a cheese sandwich. At the end of our conversation he probably knew more about what was going on then I did. Every time we would talk he would ask me how things were going with Jefferson and I . I would answer that they were going good.
Anyway, back to last night. There were eight people over for game night (which is about as perfect a number as you can get for board games). Rico, his partner Donnie, their room mate Josh (a.k.a. The Boy), Funny Girl, another co-worker - Jason and his wife Sarah, Jefferson and me.
Earlier in the day I had gotten my car detailed and wanted to show Jefferson how great it looked. We took a break from the game and went outside along with Rico and The Boy. I was walking down the sidewalk and Jefferson was right behind me. I wasn't really paying attention, but I guess that Rico had stopped Jefferson and said to him "You take care of my girl".
Awwwww, how sweet is that? Rico was my first friend when I moved to Michigan. I love him dearly and it was so sweet of him to do that. Jefferson thought that it was really nice too and said that it was like he received permission to see me.
Rico didn't tell me that he said anything to Jefferson, but I think that makes it even more special.
Rico ~ Love ya babe!!

It IS Reality. I Swear!!

After much thought and angst, I have decided to come clean and air out my dirty, dirty secret. This was not an easy decision to make as I am pretty sure that some people will mock me.
I am a reality show junkie. There. I said it. Phew...that wasn't so bad.
Back in 1992 (the year I graduated high school) a new genre of teen/young adult angst drama was born. MTV's The Real World.
This was a new style of show based off of cameras rolling 24/7 and recording unscripted situations. I was totally hooked.
I watched The Real World every season. Then Road Rules debuted. Another reality show that I was hooked on. My favorite Road Ruler is still Devon (Season 2) who was on the cast with Timmy and Emily. He never did anything else for MTV that I ever saw, but he was and will forever be my favorite Road Ruler.
Thus began my slide into the pit of Reality TV Junkie. If it is reality TV, chances are I have heard about it, at least watched one episode or am a regular viewer.
Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy scripted TV as well, but there is something about the train wreck mentality of reality TV that I can't stop watching.
My current addictions are Big Brother 7: All Stars, Project Runway & Treasure Hunters.
I will admit to watching The Bachelor(ette), Hell's Kitchen, Beauty & The Geek , Average Joe (1 & 2), Joe Millionaire, Survivor, The Mole, Temptation Island,America's Next Top Model, American Idol, Dancing With The Stars, So You Think You Can Dance , American Inventor, Flavor of Love (1st Season), Strange Love, Amish In The City, The Amazing Race, The 70's House, 8th & Ocean, Miami Ink, My Fair Brady, My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance, The Newlyweds , Nanny 911, Supernanny, My Super Sweet 16, The Osbornes, Blow Out, Boy Meets Boy, Breaking Bonaduce, The Restaurant, The Swan, Extreme Makeover (including the home edition), Surreal Life, Tommy Lee Goes To College, Kathy Griffin: My Life On The D-List, Who's Your Daddy, What Not To Wear, Last Comic Standing, Wife Swap, The Will, The Littlest Groom etc,etc,etc.
Some of these were horrible and I only watched a couple of episodes. Others I loved, but are no longer on the air. Some, I liked initally, but got bored with the same thing over and over again.
The absolute worst reality show that I have ever watched was not Who Wants To Marry A Millionaire as many would claim. The worst show that I have ever seen is still unfortunately on the air. It is My Super Sweet 16 on MTV. I have never seen more spoiled, self-centered, bratty teenagers in my entire life. And that is saying a lot. It is like Mean Girls come to life but with rich parents who spoil them so much that I literally want to gag.
I know that I am not the only one out there who is a reality TV show junkie. I certainly didn't coin that phrase.
Do you love or hate reality TV? If you love it, what are you addicted to?

Celebrate The Misery Of Others

I got a call last night from a cute co-worker who also sits near me. We were chatting about various things and then he dropped a bomb on me.
CCW: I have good news and bad new for you.
Me: What is it?
CCW: The bad news is, someone got fired today.
Me: Oh my gosh, who was it.
CCW: That is the good news. It was Smelly Girl.
Me: ARE YOU SERIOUS?????
CCW: Yes, the email was sent last night after you left.
Me: You're kidding right?
CCW: Her stuff was still there last night, but she got fired.

The conversation continued and I have to admit, I was pretty happy about it.

Smelly Girl is hard to describe. She is probably about 5 feet tall and in her mid 40's. She is an extremely heavy smoker and is a very large woman. And, she smells.
Sometimes it is a reeking of stale cigarette smell, other times that aroma is mixed in with other body odors that I don't even want to contemplate.
The best way that I can describe it is imagine a hot, steamy locker with old sweaty socks and clothes along with an ashtray overflowing with old cigarette butts that have gotten wet.
I wonder if it is wrong to celebrate someone else's misery. I don't know her personally. I never really had an interest in getting to know her. Not just because she smelled, but because she was hardly ever here (FMLA for a plethora of issues) and because when she was here, she didn't know how to do her job and was basically dumber than a box of rock.
I hope I don't burn in hell for being happy that she is gone.
I brought home made banana bread.
To celebrate.

Sex and Pizza

Imagine a pizza. One with your favorite toppings. It is sitting there right in front of you all hot and ready to eat. You can smell it and it is making your mouth water. You know that as soon as you eat it that it is going to be great and you will satisfy your craving for a while.
But, you have decided that you aren't allowed to eat pizza. That is isn't good for you. You still love it and you always want it, but you won't eat it. You are around it on a semi-regular basis, but you can never indulge no matter how bad you want it.
Of course, if you had only ever heard of pizza, but never tasted it or smelled it, it wouldn't affect you the way that it would someone who has had pizza and loved it right?
This is how I explained being abstinent from sex vs. being a virgin to my friend Funny Girl. Funny Girl is a virgin. She is waiting until marriage to have sex. We were talking a while ago about how difficult it is to not have sex once you have had it especially when you are dating someone or are in love. I used the pizza analogy.
She totally got it.

Cleanin' Out My Closet (long post)

Since I have started a blog I have shied away from talking about one specific subject. Not because it is something that I am ashamed of, but because I don't want a certain person stumbling across my blog and reading things about themselves. But I figure, what the hell. It isn't going to make a bit of difference in my life at this point. He does enough shit to drive me batty, so why not write about it.
Butthead has been in my life since 1996 and I will be stuck dealing with him for at least the next 10 years. At this point it is hard sometimes to remember that I loved him. What I feel now is very close to contempt.
It is hard to give a shit about someone who goes out of their way to cause problems. Someone who treats me like I am an idiot and refuses to listen to anything that I have to say that goes against what he thinks. Even when I have been proved right again and again.
This is a story about the last thing that he did.
D used to go to his dad's for daycare and his step-mother Bitch would watch him. After a year I found out some shit that she was doing to D that was totally unacceptable. Telling him that he was stupid, that he was fat (which he is not), that she hated him and wished that he was never born.
When I found out about what was happening I called Butthead and told him that D was not going there anymore. Butthead got pissed. Not because D wouldn't be coming over anymore, but that it meant that I wouldn't be giving back all of the child support that I received every month. Since I didn't have to pay for daycare we agreed that it was fair.
D has always gone to school using Butthead's address because I work fulltime and he was there before and after school. When D stopped going to stay with Bitch all day, he started going to his grandparent's house and his grandfather Motown would take him to school every day. This was only for a few weeks since school was going to be ending soon.
That summer Butthead moved into a different school district (which was the same one that Motown lived in). I called the school and talked to them about registering D and what I should do in regards to him not being in his home district. The principal told me to just register him using Motown's address, so I did.
Butthead found out about it and called the school after the school year had already started and let them know that D didn't actually live in the school district and that he was registered under false pretenses. The pricipal called me and told me that since Butthead was making it an issue that we would have to get a waiver etc. for D to be released from his home school district.
Now, Butthead has pulled a bunch of shit in his time, but this didn't affect me, if affected my son and that was the last straw. You DO NOT mess with my kid.
I called him on it and he said "I wanted everything to be on the up and up. I didn't want him to be there under a lie". I told him that I did exactly what the school told me to do and that it wasn't his place to try and start trouble. He ignored me and then said "You decided that D shouldn't come over here for daycare anymore, so I thought that they should know. I wanted everything to be fair and equal" and more bs like that.
So, I decided to hit him where it would hurt the most. In the pocketbook.
Fast forward 5 months. Butthead had started a new job and was making decent money. Since the custody agreement back in 1998, he had been paying the same amount for child support (under $50 per week). I decided that it was time for the child support to be reviewed which is my right to do every 3 years.
I sent the request to have it reviewed and a few weeks later I got a call from Butthead.
Butthead: "Did you request that the child support be reviewed?"
Me: "Well, it HAS been 7 years, so it is probably time, don't you think?"
Butthead: "Why would you do this now when we have been getting along fine?"
Me: "Well, I thought that everything should be on the up and up. You know, fair and equal." This was using his exact words against him when he called the school.
Butthead: "What do you mean by that? I just don't understand why you would do this now."
Me: "Well, after you did what you did, I figured that it was time."
Butthead: "What did I do?"
Me: "If you can't figure that one out, you aren't as smart as you think you are."
Butthead: "What are you talking about. What did I do?"
Me: "Think about it. You decided that you wanted something to be on the up and up and fair and equal just to cause me problems, I thought that I would return the favor."
Butthead: "Just tell me what I did wrong!"

So, I tell Butthead what he did wrong and he thought that I was an idiot to have the child support reviewed for such a "stupid" reason.
Yeah, I am such an idiot. I am soooo dumb. I am so stupid that I waited 5 months until he had a good job for a few months before I requested the child support review.
After about 3 months, we got the review decision back. They increased the child suppport by over $325.00 per month to $525.00. Of course, he about shit a brick.
Since the review he has lost that job (I can't even count the amount of jobs that he has had since I have known him. I lost count at 12 in one year) and hasn't found another one except for his part time job that he has been working.
Of course, he requested an appeal of the child support increase and that review date is set for next week and we both have to go to court. I wouldn't be surprised if he was waiting to look for another job until after support has been set. He is in for a few nasty surprises.
To date, I haven't received any child support for over 3 months, which I am sure that the courts will not take kindly to.
I have a few things that I will be bringing up at the review, but will wait to post about it until afterwards.
You would think that after all of this time that Butthead would think that I am smarter than he gives me credit for, but you know what? I prefer that he think I am stupid. That way when I am right, it makes him look like even more of an idiot than he already does.
Mess with my kid and you will taste the wrath of Rachel!

Throat Energy

Saturday I had gone out to dinner with Funny Girl, my son D and his friend Ami. We were having the usual silly dinner chatter and then Funny Girl mentioned that she didn't like monkeys because they looked creepy (there was a photo of an orangutan on the kids coloring book).
For the next 20 minutes Ami talked about how much she hated monkeys. That they were scary, creepy and ugly. That they threw things at people etc.etc.etc.
Apparently she had been taken to the zoo by her father and did not like them at all(this was all news to her mother when I told her about it later that night).
Funny Girl of course thought that this was hilarious and continued prompting Ami to keep talking about her dislike of monkeys.
After a while, D was done with his dinner while Ami was only about halfway through hers since she was talking at high-speed for the entire meal. D turns to her and says "Ami, you have a lot of throat energy. (pause) That means you talk too much."
Funny girl and I look quickly down at our plates and try to stifle the giggles that are attempting to break free. We look at each other, clap our hands over our mouths and look back down at our plates laughing silently behind our hands.
It was such an unexpected comment. Especially coming from a kid who has a lot of "throat energy" himself.

Holy Heatwave Batman!!

It is Hot. HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT!
This isn't Michigan hot where it is mid 80's and sticky. This is Southern Florida in August hot! Where it is so hot, you don't even want to hang out in the pool. Bitch slap you in your face hot.
You want A/C in your car? Forget it. It takes so long to cool down that you are home, dripping with sweat from stewing in a broiling hot car waiting for it to kick in. Well, it won't cool down until you are about a mile from home.
Eggs frying on the sidewalk hot.
Jalapeño juice as a cool refreshing beverage hot.
Burning your buns on leather seats hot.
Even your A/C working full steam in your house will barely be at a tolerable level.
This is the perfect time for ice baths, cold beer, sleeping naked, eating ice cream, water balloon fights (if you can handle being outside at all), having sex in the cold shower, incorporating ice into every day activities , not cooking or doing laundry.
The worst part? That you would rather be at work instead of home because of the A/C.
Did I mention that it is FRICKIN' HOT????!!!!!