The weather in New York has been amazing the past few days. We went from Hell to Heaven. Other than a recent trip to Vietnam, I do not believe I have ever experienced such oppressive heat and humidity. Everyone felt dirty, gritty, irritated and exhausted.
With the wave of coolness and greatly reduced humidity, the NY metropolitan area is liberated, joyous. Isn’t it amazing how weather affects our moods? I always prefer NYC over California, but you can not beat Los Angeles weather. Even when you crave a good, dark depression, it is difficult to muster when the sky is turquoise, no humidity and a lovely ocean breeze is wafting.
During football Sunday’s in Los Angeles, there is a slight tug when you are sitting inside watching TV and perfection is calling you out. I want to be in NY, ensconced on my couch, wearing baggy clothes, suffering through a NY Giants game (did you see last night’s debacle) and stuffing my face. During football season, I demand cold weather and wintry conditions…where the idea of being indoors is enticing.
It is amazing that people settle in Alaska, Siberia, Kansas City, Omaha…weather is seasonally frightful. You are confronted by tornados, snow storms, avalanches, floods, etc. Seriously, why do people live in these parts of the world…reasonable real estate, low taxes?
Good weather lifts spirits, encourages more physical activity and people are prone to healthier lifestyles in appealing climates.
Yesterday, I was stopped by New York’s meanest and given a ticket for holding my cell phone in my lap…did he have binoculars? Even this annoyance couldn’t dampen my spirits. I walked off my frustration, heading down to Mood Fabrics at 8th Avenue and 37th Street to buy fabric for my water logged pillows…no, I did not see Heidi Klum or Tim Gunn. I headed to Bryant Park and took in the beauty of the park and the day.
I must admit this is my absolute favorite time of year, especially in NYC. The humidity drops and my hair resumes normal programming, the days cool off and provide the menopausal set a chance to dry out a bit. Holidays are around the corner and you don’t have to fake it in a bathing suit. Let the Spanx do their job, sweaters and jackets mask the great cover up.
No cover up…it’s a wrap and my supreme wish for all my readers…I sincerely hope the weather, your mood and hair are spectacular.
Afterthought…today is the last day of the US Open and I have some Court Confessions. My sources will go nameless, but my courtside confidants gave me the scoop on some of the top tennis players…it ain’t always a love match…
• The Spaniards are very polite, but there accents are soo thick and their English flawed that communication is almost zero.
• Del Potro is very nice, but no one understands what he is saying.
• John Isner is a living doll and takes time for the plebs.
• Federer NEVER speaks to anyone and is way beyond metrosexual.
• Andy Murray is so foul both verbally and in his attitude that an envoy had to be sent to apologize.
• Until the 2014 US Open…game, set, match.