Hot Hot Heat

Just in case you think I am exaggerating...

Things I Never Worried About In Cleveland

Heat Stroke after no less than 40 min. outside. I’m not kidding, people die here like Cleveland midges during mating season. Right now we’re under a Level 2 heat advisory … sort of the reverse Winter Weather Advisory – you’re not supposed to spend time outside unless completely necessary (like working on my Texas tan, for example.)

Lack of water. San Antonio is actually built over an aquifer and it’s at “dangerously low levels” right now. This means no watering the lawn, no filling of pools and no car washing. Considering Cleveland was flooding the last time I checked this is an odd concept to get used to. No one cares about their lawn here – because they’re all the same color: straw. The funny thing is that my landlord has a lawn care company (!) and they came out today (!) ….and “mowed” the straw. Am I crazy to think this is a waste of resources? In 101 degree weather (see above).

Getting heat stroke while getting the mail. Postal workers have it easy here. All of the mailboxes in my neighborhood are in one place – and that’s up a steep hill in brain-frying heat. I don’t care how stupid I look driving 50 feet for mail.

Snakes. With intimidating-sounding names like Diamond-Backed Water Snake, Speckled Kingsnake, Western Coachwhip and Desert King Snake! There is a field behind my backyard and two empty lots on either side of us that apparently make ideal living conditions for these things. I saw a news story on snakes crawling up water pipes and it makes me more than a little nervous.

Finding a good beer. If it’s not Tecate, Lone Star or Budweiser, you need to go to “one ‘o’ them fancy-like beer stores” for microbrews. I miss you, Dortmunder. I am also missing Christmas in July and it makes me want to cry a little.

Throwing something away. You get one trash bin and one recycling bin for all of your week’s garbage needs to fit into that. Do you have any idea how many trees the moving company wasted on packing up our shit? We have no less than 20 boxes full of paper. It will take us three years to dispose of all of that! Oh and theer are NO garbage pickers in San Anton. I miss watching people clabber for broken televisions and headboards RIGHT OUTSIDE OF MY DOOR.

Go West, Young Woman

Ok, Ok, for those of you who want a story about my Westward, Wagon Ho! Trip I am breaking it down into bullets because:

A. I despise long narratives and,
B.You’re more likely to read bullet points. It’s a proven editorial trick.

Now onto my trip:

- Who knew two cats would get into an all-out cage match even after being drugged with vet tranquilizers? And, if you’ve never given a pet a tranquilizer, it’s highly entertaining. They walk around bumping into things and slur their meows so it sounds like “rrrrooooowwwlll?”

In other words, me after about three glasses of pinot noir.

And yes, my cats meow in question format.

- How come when you NEED a Wal-Mart there are none in sight? We had to travel hundreds of miles to get a SECOND cage for the cats. Isn’t Kentucky Wal-Mart Country???

- We stayed at a hotel about two miles into Kentucky because I was determined to get to ANOTHER state by sundown on our first day. Yeah, we had to wait until the movers left at, oh 4 p.m. to leave. Who takes 7 hours to pack a house, you ask? Movers getting paid by the hour by the U.S. Army, that’s who. Anyway, the woman at the front desk had a slooow Southern drawl and only a few teeth. This was two miles into the Bluegrass State, folks. I was frightened for the miles ahead of me…

- Did you know there is absolutely NOTHING but a few Shoney’s restaurants between Lexington Kentucky and Nashville Tennessee?

- Same goes for Memphis through Texarkana, Texas. I almost fell asleep at the wheel because for 400 miles all I saw were:
1. Adult video mart billboards
2. Shoney’s restaurants
3. Trucks

- We had to have a nightly stealth-like operation to get two yowling cats into “No Pets Allowed” hotels. I seriously climbed through a window for those fucking felines. yet they allow children to stay at the hotel and scream steadily for hours at a time? Injustice. And I can only wonder what the cleaning ladies thought of our disposable litter boxes we left behind.

- I have never seen traffic until I had to merge through EIGHT LANES OF TRAFFIC in Dallas. Eight. On each side of the highway. Not to mention most of the highways are built up high so you sort of feel like you’re driving on a roller coaster…or in the future. I swear the TDOT got its inspiration for its freeway system from old episodes of “The Jetsons.”

- Say what you want … but I bet no one knew Waco existed until David Koresh.

- They have Ikea in Texas! So, everything is NOT bigger because I have yet to find a piece of furniture in that store that would comfortably seat anyone over 5’6”.

- It took us 25 hours, 23 min. and 45 seconds to get to our final resting place. If Jim and I hadn’t driven in separate cars we may not be married anymore.

- Our first night in San Antonio went like this: check in to Residence Inn, go out and drink pitchers of margaritas and copious amounts of food I can’t pronounce. Life is good.

Five Misconceptions About San Antonio

1. “They all have a southern accent.” If you consider Spanish an accent, well then, sure. It’s so awkward feeling like a stupid tourist everywhere we go because I can’t pronounce the Spanish menu items. Which leads me to…

2. “They really like their barbeque in Texas.” Everywhere but San Antonio that is. There is literally a Mexican restaurant at every corner. Each is “authentic” and each tastes exactly like the other one you tried last night, and the night before. The best part? The one person we know here LOVES his Chipotle. And he’s Hispanic. (Note: There are surpisingly few Taco Bells)

3. “Everything’s bigger.” EXCEPT the tiny streets that don’t fit everyone’s American-Made-And-Proud-Of-It-Four-Wheel-Drive-Truck. I seriously feel claustrophobic in my little Jetta. Which sticks out almost as much as our Saab SUV. If it ain’t American here…you get funny looks. Ironic because there is a Toyota plant nearby and I actually saw a sticker that said “My Toyota was proudly built in Texas.” Kind of an oxymoron, no?

4. “You’ll have to listen to country music.” Um, more like Latino rap. It’s everywhere. In fact, I awake each morning with the sound of Pitbull screaming from the boombox of the construction guys next door. Latinos? They get crazy…as do Blanquitas and Negritas and …Yo Mama. I have no idea what nationality Blanquitas and Negritas are, but they get crazy.

5. “It’s hot.” No, no … it’s not hot. It’s SIZZLING according to Al Roker. Go stick your head in an oven and set it to 425 degrees because THAT is how hot my leather seats are after basking in the blazing sun for two hours. Our first official Texas purchase (OK, besides Mexican food….) was a windshield cover because, Amanda? She gets crazy in the heat. The good thing that is after two weeks I think my blood has thinned enough that I find 99 tolerable. Any higher than that and I get a bit, shall we say… cranky?

Maybe I should have listened to the warnings

...because San Antonio is HOT.

Like Africa hot.

RIDUCULOUS hot.

HOTT.

Sweat-though-your-shorts-hot.

Even the wind is hot.

and...to quote my garbage man "Hotter than a bitches titty hot."

San Antonio = hot

But that train keeps rollin' on down to San Antone.

And....we're off! Next time I log on I will be in the Lone Star State - sweating. I am sure I will have plenty of stories to tell about about the pregnant mover (!), drugging two cats for a 25 hour trip and maintaining my sanity and regularity on a steady diet of crap food because the movers packed up everything in my house a day early. EVERYTHING. I didn't realize this until I sat down to go to the bathroom.

and on that note....

I’m pretty sure the automated customer service voice for my phone company just picked a fight with me

I had to call to cancel services and, because we are no longer living in 2002, I called with my cell phone. We didn’t even have a phone hooked up in our house until I needed to use our fax machine a few weeks ago. I haven’t even looked at a bill since 2005. Why did I need three-way calling again? And an unlisted phone number? Because of all the stalkers calling a number with no phone attached?

My conversation:

ATT asshole automated voice: Hello, and what can I help you with today? Please say your request clearly.

Me (speaking slowly and crystal clearly): I need to cancel my ATT services

ATT asshole automated voice: I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Please repeat.

Me (speaking louder, because everyone understands you better while shouting into the phone): I.Need. To. Cancel. My. SERVICES!

ATT asshole automated voice (using his automated condescending tone): OK I see you are calling from 216-###-#### (again, my cell phone) we do not have that phone number on file. Are you sure you have an account with us? Please say the number attached to your account now.

Me: 216-###-#### (my home number)

ATT asshole automated voice: OK, let me just pull up your information then.

**waiting, waiting, waiting***

ATT asshole automated voice: I am transferring you to a live customer service rep, please hold.

Me: D’oh! What is the point of the automated service if you can’t service me!!! Stupid-dummy-computer voice!

Cue slow jazz Muzak. This is 2009, you’d think they’d want something more upbeat while I wait. Perhaps some Beyonce? Black Eyed Peas? I could totally rock out to "Boom Boom Pow!" while dealing with phone ’tards.

**20-freaking-minutes later**

Live customer service script reader: Hello Mrs. (insert my maiden name), I see you want to cancel your services and I am very sorry to hear that. Can you tell me the reason?

Me: Yes, I’m moving to Texas and no longer need a phone…in Ohio.

Live customer service script reader now going off script: Ah, it’s definitely warm down there!