There’s nothing more depressing than the seven-day weather forecast.  Do you look at it often?

I keep fooling myself that I will look at it and see comfortable temperatures in the horizon.  Maybe it won’t be 90 in 2 days or 4 days from now.

I’m always disappointed when the coolest day forecast keeps getting pushed back to 10 days or 14 days from now.

Anytime we are in the midst of a heatwave, why does it always seem that when meteorologists predict it will end, it ultimately continues two to three days longer than expected?  However, if the forecast is for cool temperatures or rain, those days never materialize.

Even though I have lived in the Los Angeles area all of my life, the San Fernando Valley to be exact, I have never enjoyed the heat.

We have three seasons.  The shortest one last 20 days.  That’s when the temperatures are below 70 degrees.  Then we have the middle one that lasts 160 days.  That’s when the temperature ranges between 75-85.  The longest season is, let’s call it, HOT, half the year where temperatures barely dip below 86, but often rage out of control like a California forest fire into the mid-90s and, more often in recent years, Death Valley-like triple digits past 110 degrees.

I read somewhere that we just lived through a six-month period of record high temperatures in 125 years.  Great.

Remember, there is no climate change to explain this.

Summer-like weather starts on July 1 and continues until Nov. 1—at least.

My favorite months of the year—November and December—have to do with 3 traits:  cooler weather, shorter days, and holidays.

Whenever there is a heat wave during those two months, I feel cheated.  There should be a law that no day reach 80 degrees or higher for those 61 days.  A few Thanksgivings ago we had a record 93 degrees.  That was awful.

You try to wear the few sweaters you have, you try to have some fires in the living room (if for no other reason than for atmosphere), but it doesn’t feel right when the thermostat in your house never dips below 72 degrees throughout the night.

Going to school in Burbank meant two things:  one, airplane noise would interfere with the lessons on a regular basis, and, two, when you returned to school in September there were bound to be days when the non-air conditioned schools would close early due to excessive heat.

Up until my late 30’s, I suffered the hot weather at home since I had no air conditioning.  But even when I’m home with the air conditioning on, the sweltering blast from outside still gets under my skin.  I feel lethargic, whereas when it’s 65 degrees outside, I feel invigorated.

I keep telling myself that one day I will move out of this area to a cooler climate, say, Santa Barbara, or Morro Bay.  However, it is difficult when you have family, friends and favorite restaurants to pack up your tent and leave it all behind. 

In the meantime, I’m going to ensconce myself watching “Holiday Inn” and sipping hot cocoa—all with the curtains drawn.