Hot Child in A Three Story Walk Up

So, it's here. Summer. A time when one can relax, BBQ, and get off at three on Fridays. Amazing.

However, living in a open studio in Manhattan in 90 degree heat doesn't always paint this ever-so flawless picture. From about mid-May to mid-September I'm awoken at 4:48 in the morning from lovely little rays of sunlight beaming down on my eyelids. As I try to go back to sleep, the overwhelming sense of guilt creeps into my brain with every chirping bird and ray of sun screams "GET UP". Eight in the morning feels like noon.

Once I peel myself off the sweat stained sheets, I choke back hot coffee, sweating as I try and get every last drop of caffeine into my blood stream. Now I 'm ready to climb into the overheated subway, smell all my neighbors and the residue from their sweat stained sheets. Needless to say I am not a summer person, more of a Fall/Winter gal, I mean I am from Canada.

The only solace I have is to know that at the end of the day I can come home, have a shower, sit in my underwear, crank the AC and enjoy some quality television programming.When I was younger my parents told me I could go outside and play with my friends during the summer or I could watch two funny shows (that's what I called sitcoms), but DJ Tanner and Blanche Deveraux won out every time (even if it was summer reruns).

So you can understand my disappointment when I come home hoping to find something good to watch and instead I am confronted with the same crap you find on a Sunday at 3pm or Tuesday at 12pm.

So You Think You Can Dance is no American Idol and all the "dancers" look like small muscular midget troll dolls.

America's Got Talent reminds me of the first summer I spent in New York. I went to Coney Island and saw a real live heroin addict. Scary but I couldn't look away.

Losing It With Jillian is sooooo amazing. I mean who doesn't want the runner-up from a Who Wants To Be Hulk Hogan's New Daughter/Girlfriend Contest to come into their home and tell them not sit in garbage. I sure do. Maybe after we are done cleaning we could go kill a live turkey and count the amount of calories in the giblet.

So I guess in conclusion, the only way to get through the summer is to do what my grandparents did: read the paper and have sex!