by Ginger on November 25, 2015

in Random

I grew up in the desert. It was dry and it was hot. Humidity was my nemesis and the phrase “it’s a dry heat” was my mantra. 

And then I moved to New York and it was humid and gross a lot of the time. It was rarely dry like I grew up with, and was often swampy in ways I hated. The humidity wasn’t a reason I wanted to leave, but I DID miss the dryness  

Then we moved to San Diego. It was sort of a midway point between those two worlds. There are occasional swings that go more humid or more dry, but in general it lives in the middle of those two extremes.

And now, I am fully acclimated to San Diego’s temperate moisture levels. I whine when it gets too humid. I whine when it gets too dry. San Diego has made me the goldilocks of weather-it has to be juuuuust right.

Which is why, when we visit family, my body doesn’t know how to react. But especially when we come to Vegas to see my mother in law. I feel like a dry, desicated husk of a person. My skin dries out and feels like it’s trying to actively separate itself from my body. It’s so dryyyyyyyyyyyy. 

And it just makes me wonder, how the hell did I live like this for the first 22 years of my life? 

I surely don’t know anymore, so all I can say is please pass the lotion. 

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