Thursday, July 30

On A Corvallis Death Bed

"To my family: If I don't survive this heatwave, or the chance I become a vegetable, I love you. We had a good run. Hahaha mom can have my iPhone, dad can have my racecar. Courtney, my clothes. Ginger can have my house decor (sorry there's no jap crap) hahaha and hay can have my tv.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh okay I'm going to go submerge myself in the kiddie pool in the backyard so I don't feel the sweat."

- Tracy, texted last night while I was successfully shopping for work clothes

I remember how those nasty summers felt when houses pre-1970s didn't have air. Where we monkey-rigged fans with wet towels in attempts to cool off just 5 degrees. Kiddie pools were compared to the Grotto. Boob sweat was the new black. And cold beer was sold out faster than water. And we couldn't get the pregnant lady cool enough (love you Mommy McD, especially since you make and bake such great, little munchkins!).

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