Monday, and Hot.

Already really, really hot. And I have a heat refugee/house guest. Dudley is here, because the AC is out at his parents' house, and it's over 90 indoors today. They've been calling about it for 2 weeks, before it got really hot, and two AC companies came out last week and agreed that the AC system is dead. Not fixable, too old, needs to be replaced, stick a fork in it, es muerto.

An in-person visit to the management company office today resulted in a horrified response and the promise that the new system will be installed tomorrow. (Apparently management company is not to blame; owner was dragging feet and because they didn't complain over the weekend, management assumed the work was done.) I offered to let the whole crew sleep over here for the duration. They declined, but were concerned about their heat sensitive child. Bostons, like Yorkies, don't do well in those conditions. So he's sleeping over, and they will tough it out with Layla.

They'll be okay; they can open the french doors across the back of the house and turn on the fans, and by the time they are ready to go to bed it'll be at least bearable. They do have fans, and french doors that open onto the big screened porch, so it's not that bad. ( I lived for a week without electricity in 2004, and it sucked, but the worst was the cat hair and cold showers and driving a half hour with wet hair to blow-dry in the office bathroom.)

Central Florida is not like being on the coast - I've visited my cousin in May with the house opened up and fans on, and while it was warm-ish and sticky during the day, it was nothing like this. Closer to the water, you get a breeze that is at least coolish in the evening. Here, the air is hot and still, and when there is a breeze in the evening, it's the exhaust fan from the dry cleaner in Hell. The breeze is hot, and wet, and not even slightly refreshing. It's May, and already exhaust fan hot. I devoutly hope this will be my LAST summer in this climate, and after the wedding the dog and I (and maybe puppy) will saddle up Baby and ride on up I-95, to Elsewhere.

I've made a hair appt at a nearby (but not cheap) salon. My hair is a horror, and I don't feel like driving an hour south to go to the gal who was doing my hair before, down past the office - she was good, but not worth an hour's drive, so I researched local shops with good recommendations, and lo, there is one that I could walk to, if I didn't want to die of heatstroke. So I'll give this guy a shot. He's one of the owners of the shop, and it's 10 minutes from my front door. If he's good, he may be the go-to guy for the wedding hair, because BrideGirl is in search of a good hair stylist too. I shall test drive him on Wednesday. All I want is a decent trim and shape-up and conditioning, because the humidity hit and my hair went crazy. North of FL, my hair is silky and shiny and behaves like hair. Our water is hard and harsh, and the humidity and the drying water conditions create Frizz that product and flat iron can only combat, but not defeat. My FL hair is much more frazzled and hot single retiree in the trailer park looking, like I should be wandering around in bright blue eye shadow and a caftan and flip-flops with an umbrella drink in my hand. New Hair Guy will have his hands full on Wednesday.

Tomorrow, the Salvation Army Truck will haul off the gold chair, among other "treasures." Did I tell you the story of the gold wingback chair from my parents' house, which my son "had" to have? I hauled it back from the house and have had it here for over a year now, inviting him to come and get his bit of his grandparental memorabilia. I am not exaggerating when I say it's a shabby and uncomfortable and also not old enough to be an antique chair. I sent Boy an "Is this your final answer?" email the other day, and his answer was a masterful equivocation: "Well, we really can't use it, but it's a shame to let it pass out of the family..." a few "Is that your final answer?" emails later he conceded he didn't really want it. Wonder Woman has her hands full with him; he's very practical on some things, and then bizarrely sentimental about other things. Final Answer: That chair makes my ass hurt. It's leaving.

And this is only the start of the week! Tomorrow evening is the caterer food tasting. I hope I can stay awake.