I have adjusted to living in this city pretty well. summers in chicago seem like a tiny blip to me. it gets hottish for a week or so, everyone freaks out, then it goes back to this mild, temperate weather that -don't get me wrong- is very nice, but just doesn't feel like summer.
growing up, summer was months and months of endless heat, drought, and scorching days. cars left in the sun were science experiments that claimed lipstick, cassette tapes, even the industrial automotive glue that held on your rear-view mirror, leaving only a fascinating melted goo.
And then, while you were distracted by seeing what else had melted, you sear your hands on the seat belt. that one leaves a burn mark.
then the steering wheel.
then the gear shift.
things died of heatstroke everywhere. everyone spent every free moment swimming or out on the lake, any lake. pocket handkerchiefs are a necessity for men, for mopping their faces. kids are shuttled from pool to pool to pool.
heat heat heat. When you walked outside, it would just hit you like a huge pillow. Whooooph. 110 degrees and humid.
when august comes here, instead of being the worst, most torturous month, it's the one that makes me realize that i've missed summer all over again and the nights are already chilly.