Hell-A

It is so damn hot here. I mean, it's not Mississippi, we don't have the humidity, but we also don't have air conditioning in our apartment, so even without the humidity, it is absolutely miserable. It's like Elaine told Puddy, when he told her she was going to Hell.

I'm going to Hell! The worst place imaginable. With the ragged clothing, and the heat, my God the heat!

I've been sleeping on the couch some nights, and one night last week I had to resort to drastic measures. I went downstairs and grabbed an ice cold can of Pabst out of the fridge just to hold in my hand while I tried to fall asleep. It worked, for a little while, and I fell asleep feeling a little cooler, but then I woke up again about 30 minutes later drenched in sweat, and holding a warm beer. A friend suggested I place an entire cooler next to the bed, so that when one beer warms up, I can switch it out for a cold one. Doesn't sound like a bad idea.

It is actually cooler outside our apartment than inside. We've been trying to adjust by doing things outdoors. Last night we went to see a movie. In a cemetary. It was as weird as it sounds. They do movie screenings at the Hollywood Forever cemetary (which is the creepiest name for a cemetary I can think of) during the summer, and last night they showed Woody Allen's "Manhattan." First time I've seen it, and it was awesome. As if seeing a movie in a cemetary wasn't weird enough, they had a DJ spinning tunes before and after the movie, and everyone sits there and has picnic dinners before the show starts. Nothing like bringing a bunch beer and wine to the graveyard. Just a normal Saturday evening in Hollywood, I guess.