Monday, July 18, 2011

Always anti-summer

Here's a tip for everyone: name-dropping is never a good idea. The idea of using the reputation of a person whom you are not to attempt to gain something for yourself is an absurd one. More often than not, if you attempt to name-drop, you'll accomplish little more than sounding arrogant or pompous, and quite possibly coming off like an ass. Furthermore, if you attempt to drop a name that is obscure enough that the listening party has no clue of whom you are referring... well, then you will come off like an ass.

Now that we have the public service announcement out of the way, I'd like to provide a little breaking news: it's hot outside.

I'm fairly certain that I've written of my dislike of the summer's triple-digit temperatures every year of The Writings' existence, but this summer Mother Nature seems to getting a bit carried away. The term Excessive Heat Warning has become a routine part of my day, as if I'm reading that oxygen will be readily available or that I'll encounter road construction in Manhattan. I've tried to handle the heat with a smile on my face, utilizing more "How hot is it?" jokes than any person should ever attempt to conjure. I'm fairly certain that my sense of humor is now suffering from heat exhaustion as a result.

It's hot.

How hot is it?

So hot that folks everywhere are setting bonfires in order to cool down.

Ugh... That hurt.

Yes, you're safe in betting that my anti-summer stance is still very firm. As a result, I'm left dreaming of falling leaves (which is as boring as it sounds) and attempting to find ways to take my mind off the mind-melting heat. Alas, the two things at the forefront of thought parade at the moment - baseball and eventually buying a home - both steer my mind back to summer. Yes, even my brain is betraying me.

The correlation between baseball and summer seems pretty obvious. Despite the fact that the Major League season begins in April and ends in November, baseball is widely considered a summer sport. Perhaps I should just blame all the Royals' woes over the last 20 years on warmth of the season. Is that a valid excuse for, at times, comically bad baseball?

The other notion currently running laps in my head involves home ownership. I've lived in my current apartment for over four years, and my encounters with neighbors have been fairly well documented courtesy The Writings - from the neighbor who fancied himself the second-coming of Busta Rhymes to the kid with boxes upon boxes of skateboard magazines. This apartment has served me well, and I'd recommend it to anyone (and will, if I end up needing a subleaser... Interested?), but the truth is that I'm getting a little old for life in an apartment next to a university. I no longer work next door, I no longer feel the need to live in Manhattan, and I no longer can consider asking a neighbor out without feeling like the creepy old guy. It may be time to move on.

Alas, bundled with the idea of buying a house is the idea of having to move... again. I've moved five times in my 28 years and that already seems like far too many. I consider few things to be greater hindrances that the process of moving. From sorting and packing (and wondering why in the world you would want to move item X to your new place) to unsorting and unpacking (and realizing that you moved item X to your new place for no good reason), moving is painstaking. It's horrible. It's almost as bad as oppressive heat. (Yes, we've come full-circle, friends.)

What's the time line for the house-hunting process? Honestly, if I had one-third of a clue I'd be far more knowledgeable than I am now. Whatever happens, it will be interesting. It may be exciting. And it will most certainly provide some good blog material.

Are you free to help me move? What if I drop the name of a mutual acquaintance?
(Nevermind. NOW we've come full-circle.)

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