Sweltering Heat and a Fashion Statement

Well you can't say that your surprised. It had to happen sometime and you knew it did. This is my obligatory whine/diatribe about the heat of summer and how badly I do detest it. Now I know what you're going to say, "oh it's been relatively cool for that past few days." Fine I will give you that today wasn't very hot but I will not be dissuaded. I am convinced that I am just a hotter (no not in that sexy sort of way, I know) person. There are cold people. You know who they are. They're the ones who you see chattering in a long sleeved sweaters while your sitting there in shorts and a flimsy top sweating like a runner in a marathon in the Sahara desert. They are the ones that have the unmitigated gall to turn off the fan that you just switched on saying something like, "Oh who turned this on? It's freezing." "I turned it on" you say "me the one who is as we speak undergoing the phase shift from solid to liquid and if you don't turn that fan back on it will be vapour next."
Well I am a hot person and I think that's the point I was trying to make. I don't know for sure though. You'll have to get back to me in the fall when my brain has hopefully resolidified where it belongs.
I have not a solution but an idea that may help. Anna's little foray into vintage fashion reminded me of a thought that I had while feeling the top of my head being turned into a torch by the relentless sun. Parasols. I shall, nay I must bring parasols back into fashion! Oh how Victorian of me! But just think this is the age of being told to avoid UV rays and use SPF 500 sunblock if you don't want to have skin cancer by next week. Sure it was out of vanity and a strange feminine ideal that caused women to be treated like a piece of fine bone chine that could shatter at any moment. Still they were on to something with those parasols. Now I'm not suggesting that we bring back the bustle (my butt is large enough thank you) or the fear of a glimpse of female ankle (I am a shorts wearing hussy after all). I do love vintage clothing but I don't want to wear it every day. I think a parasol paired with jeans and a tee shirt would be fabulous. I like the mixed fashions.
All I ask is that we have more lacy umbrellas and matching fans, while we're at it, available in stores. And that the next time you step out to brave the roasting sun you give the modern Victorian look a chance.

One Down

It is at long last complete. I am officially finished with the Fundamentals of Nursing class. I took my final yesterday and now have a little time to breath a sigh of relief and relish the idea that I don't have to retake that class.
There were a few people in the class that were taking it for the second time ("the curve throwers" I call them). I looked at them with a mixture of awe and dread.With awe because they managed to convince themselves to come back for a second round of torture, in an Oliver Twist "please sir, I want some more" sort of way. With dread because one of them had only missed the required test score average by a tenth of a percent and I did not want that to happen to me. I don't know if I would have had it in me to do it all over again. I really don't think I would. But that is coming from the same person who quit every Monday only to show up for Clinicals every Tuesday morning. I still haven't decided if that is a sign of being a quitter or not. Maybe I'm just not a very good quitter.
There is, of course, a lot more to go but just one more class down is a big deal to me and everyone else in the program I'm sure.
I am still on a high from getting a 100% on my last care plan. I know that unless you've seen a care plan that means very little to you. You're just going to have to trust me when I say that they are hours and hours of work with a brutal grading system.
So, thrice I say "huzzah!"