Drizzle Storm 2010

It’s been a tough few days here in the City of Angels/Vapidity. Fear began building as the skies, normally blue or blueish/smog-brown, became an ominous gray (or grey, if you’re British). Science, it seems, does not have a credible explanation as to what causes this, which makes it all the more terrifying.

After some time with the sun blocked from us by the unfashionably gray sky, tragedy hit yet again. Moisture began floating around, a misty drizzle that makes the drudgery of, well, living, all the more difficult. Grasping at straws for explanations, a shockingly logical conclusion has been reached by blow hard science-types…

The unnatural element of water is in! the! air!

This nonsense is still being disputed by non-scientist who talk loudly, but still, only one thing was certain: every single human here in the dream making land of Los Angeles has been immediately struck with terror… not knowing that it could get worse.

This mist, if we pretend science is to be believed instead of ridiculed, actually comes from the gray skies — yes, the two are reported to be related. The frighting air monsters (clouds) can also, when particularly enraged, release drops (actual DROPS!) of water onto humans below. This water makes those of us caught in it’s light, drizzly fall wet. It’s similar to a low water pressure shower, though one’s clothes remain on, and there is no soap or shampoo.

The panic this causes is palpable. This is a city damp and on edge. Freeway traffic, usually furiously aggressive and needlessly risky, is now timidly cautious… dangerously so. And still riskily risky, to be honest. It seems that this moisture from the heavens, when fallen upon a road, can make said road slick. This is a cause for caution, but Angelenos, not used to such inclement weather and the rough terrain it causes, are ill-prepared to deal with it. And sometimes fearful caution combined with lack of driving skills and knowledge of the difference between smart driving and being an asshole, can have worrisome results.

In short, this drizzle LA has faced in the past few days has raised the Sky Is Falling Panic Level from Alpha to Mohaghany. Watch the skies, citizens… because wetness is dripping off of them.

Cut It Out, Sun

Dear White Shirt That I Wore Outside Without An Undershirt On This Crazy Hot Day: You were a mistake. No offense, but it is over 100 degrees out, and I am sweating right through you. It’s only a matter of time before my nipples will be easily seen as you become translucent from my husky man flop sweat.

I wore you because you are made of a light material and the lightest of colors. I didn’t wear my usual white shirt necessitated undershirt because I figured the less layers the more better. These seemed like good ideas as I forced myself to leave my air conditioned room for the first time today in order to see humans and not be a hermit.

But it is stupid hot.

That reminds me…

Dear Increasingly Too-Tight Blue Jeans I Also Wore Outside On The Hottest Day Ever: Rare is the occasion that I regret my ardent anti-shorts stance. This is such an occasion. This is one of those rarest of times. It is like an oven in my nether regions. It is most unpleasant, and perhaps showing more leg and getting some air up in there would help. Maybe I should’ve worn shorts. (I refuse to even consider my anti-sandals rule, but it’s coming close that.)

Dear Sweat Glands: What the hell? Are you seriously the best cooling system God or Evolution or some superstar team up of the two could come up with? How horrible! Salty water making a mess of my skin and clothes, often resulting in an onion odor is a sound way to prevent overheating? Seriously? Pretty dumb, Nature. Pretty dumb.

Dear Sun: It is Fall, you idiot. Cut it out. You dumb bastard.


Bah! That’s it. Next time the temperature rises above eighty, I’m not going outside, no matter what is happening. No matter how long I’ve been a shut in.

Way to go, heat.

Me Versus Ridiculous Rent

Hell A is as expensive as it is sunny. Case in point: upon a recent trip to C-bus, OH, I found out that my friend hwose name I shall not say because s/he is a private person, pays $80 less in rent than I do.
But… that’s not really a big deal, is it? Only $80? You expected a much bigger difference to necessitate a “D.J. Versus The World” thing, didn’t you? Well, the devil is in the details…

He/she (not actually a hermaphrodite), for a $80 less than what I pay in rent, gets a three bedroom, two story duplex with a basement, real hardwood floors, a yard, and more — all to him/herself.

Compare this to my room and bathroom in a two bedroom apartment in a complex… and the fact that my $80 more rent is only HALF of the rent I split with my roommate.

Granted, my friend gets a better price but is in Ohio instead of California, buuuut… is that a fair trade? Enough of us think so to allow prices to be this absurd in LA, butbutbut, you know, I have family and lifelong friends who have always stood by me and been rock solid in Ohio. Folks on which I can count, which is worth more than constant sunny, smog-filled days, isn’t it?

Plus, in LA, the first doctor I went to for a checkup called me morbidly obese whereas, in Ohio, I’m just a sturdy fella, edging toward kinda skinny. (Both assessments of weight asinine, but which one do you think I favor? But I digress…)