116 degrees. To most that sounds “blistering,” and “uncomfortable.” I’m not going to beat around the bush when I say that to me 116 degrees means death.
5 seconds outside and my face looks like a ripe tomato. You better believe I’m sporting Eczema (Thanks Skhor!) from my cheeks to my finger tips.
10 seconds later and my motor skills slow, I have a hard time concentrating and my words come out like Brad Pitt in Snatch.
30 seconds more and my movement becomes sluggish if not completely stunted. I look like the energy bunny on ambien. I just can’t keep going.
Somewhere between moments and hours later, I’m a goner. Bye bye, me.
Don’t listen to those “glass half full types” who will talk of the splendors of Arizona. Is it gorgeous? Absolutely. Should it be visited between the months of April and October? Under very few circumstances.
I fought the odds last weekend, spending 5 nights in the heated hell and lived to tell you about it. I lived because of a modern invention called “Air Conditioning,” and because I got an award. I don’t know about you, but if I’m going to brave death there better be a statue at the end of it with my name engraved on it. Fortunately for me, there was. Last Thursday and Friday I attended the National Academy Foundation Institute and received the Alumni Honoree Award, complete with a trophy. Getting to the stage was an amazing feat. I managed to make it in 2 ½ inch heels without tripping, passing out or flashing anyone. Also there was the speech that I made/blacked out. I hear it was good. Mission Accomplished.
Post-conference was a different story. First of all, I had to come off the highs of being young, beautiful and famous. Don’t think I have a big head. If you were in a room of 1000 middle aged teachers you’d call yourself young, beautiful and famous too. It pretty much comes with the territory when you are NOT wearing 1. Khaki capris, or 2. A button up short-sleeved dress-shirt with a JC Penny 1992 signature design on it.
Our next stop was the gorgeous Grand Canyon. There the temperature dropped below the 100 degree mark, but brought a little surprise weather treat in the form of a monsoon. You’re picturing the rain forest and huts ankle deep in a flash food. Good job, that’s exactly what it was like, just minus the rain forest and huts, and adding the largest cavern in the continental United States and possibly the world (a little too lazy to wikipedia “fact check” that currently, sorry). Now that’s extreme sightseeing.
Obviously I lived, so we can discern that I did not fall in. I’m clearly not extremely upset so it’s further clear that my family survived. But, oh that canyon! If I had control of the weather you can bet I’d hike that giant hole, I sure would. But since I can’t we left and moved down to the stunning red rocks of Sedona. Now if you haven’t been there before you probably have no idea that this town is like Harry Potter set in the 1970’s. Oh yes, magic and hippies are the two most common entities in this locale. Also Oprah. I didn’t see her, but I could feel her. I don’t recommend this, she’s heavy.
Watching sunsets and taking early morning hikes are the most appropriate ways to enjoy Sedona’s extreme temps and inspiring beauty. Most tourists (apparent death seekers) take the opportunity to experience the healing powers of a red rock vortex. For your reference, “vortexes” are a lot like “horcruxes,” best known for housing small pieces of Voldemort’s soul in HP6 and 7. And by “a lot like,” I really mean polar opposite. Essentially, if you channel the antithesis of the dark 
lord’s presence and suppress it into irony stone, voila, you’re in a vortex (and feeling mighty fine that your face isn’t as fugly as he-who-must-not-be-named’s).
At then end of my five days in “paradise,” I headed home. There I sat, soaking in the cool pleasure of Northwest Airline’s air circulation system, ignoring the work week to come. I was entirely at peace. However, before you could say “Wingardium Leviosa,” the plane touched down, and I instantly felt the damp humidity of Newark shower over me like the waves of the Atlantic. After letting out the required expletives, I found a towel (both paper and figurative) and set my mind to work getting used to it.
Weather is the worst. However, surviving it’s 116 degree trials with your family by your side and a dense plastic, trapezoid-shaped award nestled in your carry on, well, it may just be the best.
