So this is why I don't live in DC anymore.

Growing up in Washington, summer was always an adventure. Hands down my second-favorite summer memory was when we lost power for what seemed like the entire month of August. In reality it was probably only 3 or 4 days, but when you're 8 that seems like an eternity. A sizeable thunderstorm swept through the city, knocking down trees and power lines. There was a huge tree! Down! In Sarah's front yard! Ohmigod I could not contain my excitement. I thought it was just super to have a dark dark house. I think I even remember our babysitter spending the night, and I definitely remember having dry ice in coolers and eating a lot of drippy popsicles.

My first favorite memory of summer in DC would obviously have to be walking to get ice cream at 8:30 on a weeknight. 1. Ice cream. Specifically bubble gum from Swenson's, or cookies and cream from Lee's. 2. 8:30 on a weeknight and it was still light out. 3. We got to catch fireflies and shoot shooters on the way home. Does anyone else remember these?

http://www.ppws.vt.edu/scott/weed_id/plala.htm

 According to google, they are the cotyledons of the buckhorn plantain, a common turf weed. According to my dad, if you loop the stem around in a figure 4, you can shoot the head of it at people.

Of course, once I got older and had to actually go places, I realized that the summer weather that produces storms and ice cream cravings also produces an uncomfortable level of heat and humidity. When I was in it for extended periods, the heat didn't bother me too much. But now that I've fully acclimated to New York's cooler, less humid weather, mornings like this one slay me.

When we rolled out of bed around 5:50, I was hopeful that it wouldn't be too hot. It looked overcast. And with the AC cranking all night long (I am a princess. I don't sleep if it's above 72. Don't judge), I had myself convinced that it was as cool outside as it was in the bedroom. Cue my surprised face upon stepping out the door.

For the first half 10 minutes of our 4 mile run, I was feeling ok. There was a breeze, it was blowing in the right direction, and the bugs didn't seem to be too bad. But I swear after the 8th 1st mile that somebody turned off the exhaust fan.

Take a gander at this nifty chart, courtesy of wunderground.com.

 You'll see that the humidity when we started was around 74%. That reading must have been taken from the top of a hill, because there is NO WAY that the humidity was only 74% where we were running. Stupidly. In a valley.

M. said he both the dog and I needed a cattle prod. You know it's bad when the uber energetic dog is poking along. Once we got home, Gus got a nice cold blast of water to the belly. And then both he and I laid on the wood floor in front of a box fan for ten minutes.