Numb in Nashville

This is the first time I've ever visited Nashville, TN.

I've always wanted to visit... never have... and ironically I'll be coming back here AGAIN in six months for yet another work related conference.

But it's so ab-so-freakin-lutely hot and humid here, I can barely form a coherent thought. How do people exist in tropical climates? Mel and I have decided that we are both hot-house fleurs of the first water, and I vote that we should never have to cope with a day over 78 degrees F again.

Now I understand why Hemingway wrote such great crap... he stayed drunk to cope with the heat & was inspired intravenously. Same with Gauguin.. you always thought it was the brown nudie-gals that inspired his genius? Hell no. It was the hellish heat. With each upward slide of the mercury his feverish brain cells shot in screaming streams from his ears & the only way left for him to communicate was through a canvas.

I have pools of sweat in crevices that I never knew had potential to collect moisture. My already flat hair has defied the laws of gravity and is now somehow less than flat. I didn't know this was possible. I'm trying to be strong and keep telling myself that I'm lucky to have AC and lucky to be attending a conference in a nice climate controlled hotel. But deep down inside,my traitorous body KNOWS what the outside reality is, and I fear that I will soon be forced outside into the howling inferno. Pray for me...