Summer is here in Texas -- the itchy season. The season of insect bites, heat rash, poison ivy, and sweaty hair. In Texas, summer begins before Easter and lasts through Halloween. Although this year, in point of fact, summer never really seemed to end. I watch TV, so I know there's no such thing as global warming, but what gives? This shit is ridiculous. I guess there was that one night of frozen rain back in December, which also happened to be the night that the fuse box blew and C. and I had to go with a candle in the middle of the ice storm and tinker with it until it came back on. The joys of living in an old house.
Another joy of old houses, of course, is that there is no air conditioning. If you draw the curtains and turn the ceiling fans on, the dim light and the sweat evaporating off your body will create a minor and temporary illusion of coolness. Failing that, you can dress up in a petticoat and pretend to be a sweltering southern belle waiting for gentlemen callers in an age before climate control.
I am working at the new club tonight and tomorrow night. The good thing about dancing at night rather than in the daytime is that I can get some work done on the freelance projects whose deadlines are now hideously looming. The bad thing is that going in at night gives me all day long to freak myself out, which, beleive it or not, I still do. Each time I pass a mirror, all day long, I'll look at my face and body -- which, remember, are drained and sagging, pale and sweaty in the heat -- and think, would I pay $20 for this shit? It's an odd question to have in one's mind. Most people wonder about their worth, from time to time, but I wonder if strippers, whores, and actors are unique in being able to put quite such a concrete figure to the question.
Anyhow, the only thing that keeps my mind off it is work, and plenty of it, but unfortunately, no one will return my calls and answer my importunate questions today. I will need to make travel arrangements for early May. Oh hideous, hideous.