Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Heat.

Part of me wishes that I was a Peace Corps Volunteer back when Captain Cook showed up to Tonga. People here didn't wear clothes then. It's too hot for clothes.

Mandy, we get it. It's hot in Tonga.
You think you know. I thought I knew. I use to complain about the humidity in Wisconsin and then I complained about the humidity in Florida. And then I just moved to Colorado to get away from the moist (least favorite word in the English language) air and stopped complaining.

Three months ago, I sat down with my PCV friend Sean and asked him "So Sean, how hot does it really get? Because I can't imagine it getting any hotter than this." (The weather then would feel like air-conditioning now).

Fast forward time. Zwip zwip zwip.
This morning I was sitting in town hall with my friend Joey and I turned to him and looked him in the eyes and said, "Joey, I will never ever ever ever take air conditioning for granted again. Or just the feeling of being cold. Can you imagine it? Cold!"

And then the arm I was leaning on slipped from underneath me (because I was sweating so much) and I nearly fell off the bench.



1 comment:

  1. So really, I shouldn't say "MOIST" to you, right? It is kind of a gross word.

    We've found that people out here in California are weird about what they think "cold" is...when it's 65, they're in capris and t-shirts but when it's 60, they have their long wool coats, wool hats, gloves, and huge scarves. Weirdos.

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