Speaking of wonderfully swealtering hot weather, I visited Red Rock while in Vegas. It was gorgeous. You cannot see such expansive panoramas in Washington. I am a big fan of the dead-mountain look–especially when its a warm dead-mountain.

As a bonus, there was a recent fire that made all the Cacto Joshua trees look even more like they came from a Dr. Suess book than they already do.

Here’s a question for me to ponder: why do I work inside all day in a freakishly overcast state that makes my skin transparent and my thinning hair black as night?

Well, probably because there are: great music scenes; professional, commercial-free radio stations; a big (enough) city with things to do; clean air; and lots of good jobs (mention the free soda!).

But anyway, back to our topique du post: complaining about the weather…

I’m tired of keeping my body warm. 10 months out of the year I expend a great deal of energy warming my bones. This is generally a lost cause. This formula makes it all too clear:

Result? Cold bones; cold bones that stay cold. It is not exactly uncomfortable. You get used to it, and while the abscence of A.C. is great for the utility bill, I really miss having to cool my body down.

So the first thing you notice going to a place like Vegas that is actually warm is: My bones aren't cold! They don't need warming up; the sun and air do that for you. So all you have to do is keep them cool--lubricated if you will. I like that. It's what I do.

See, I drink a lot. A daily concoction of tea, soda, juice, milk and water (not together mind you) that generally accounts for 500-1000 calories of my diet. So I have plenty of liquid to spare keeping the mind and body cool, refreshed and comfortable at a pleasant 98 degrees.

Around the country, girls are stealing, smoking, doing drugs and starting fights more than boys. In a typical excuse, Professors blame the Media and–of all things–the Spice Girls:

“We can look back to the Spice Girls where girls were set an example in which aggressive behaviour was considered praiseworthy.”

Perhaps I just remember the past different than this professor, but blaming teen violence on Freaky Spice seems a little far fetched; there are a billion other examples of aggressive female personalities.

For half a century, progressives encouraged girls to act like men–wear the same clothes, have the same hairstyle, play the same games. Girls got the message; these progressive professors should bear responsibility for the results.

But I have been dealing with housing issues…I think the stress is mostly behind me though, so I should be back in top blogging form soon.