Before I moved out here I heard one person say that the summer weather of western Chicago was just like Central America. Well, Central America has nothing on this place. I know. I?ve been to C.A. three times, and I don?t just mean to the temperate highlands, I mean to the thick sweaty jungly lowlands. C.A. has nothing on Chicago, or at least it didn?t last Monday.

There was a heat advisory for the entire day. It hit nearly 100? F and nearly 100% humidity. As usual, my spectacular timing made everything worse. I had chosen Monday to be the day that I returned to dedicatedly walking or biking all my errands that lay within a few miles.

While planning my day, I thought to myself how cowardly all these Midwesterners were when it came to heat. Perhaps my example would teach everyone to consume less fossil fuels even if the weather was uncomfortable. I?m so full of crap.

My first errand was to the library, only a mile or two away. As most of the trip was downhill, even if only slightly downhill, all I did was coast and enjoy the hot breeze on my glistening face. At least it felt like it was merely glistening. The moment I stopped the bike I noticed that I was uncomfortably wet. I leaned over to lock up the bike and drops of sweat fell from my nose and lips and elbows and fingers. It poured into my eyes and speckled the cement below me.

Somewhat in disbelief and shock I stepped into the round air conditioned foyer where I could take one of three doors, one of which lead to the library. A few men in crisp business suits passed by and a handful of smiling children and their mothers scampered past. I was mortified, still sweating, still dripping, clothing soaked. Totally disgusting.

Five minutes later half of the sweat had dried and I was merely a mixture of crusty and glistening. Luckily the librarians were definitively classy, overlooked my sorry state and issued me a library card.

But the lesson was not learned. Later in the day I thought I?d walk four blocks to the grocery store. I thought, ?less physical exertion should equal a less wet Liz. After all, I?ve walked all over El Salvador and Guatemala.? I?m so full of myself.

A huge digital sign on the corner displayed the time and temperature. 4:27 pm. 95? F. I was horrified as I entered the store to realize that sweat was dripping off my chin onto my shirt, and off my fingers onto the floor, and stood there for several minutes in the produce section just trying to regain my senses.

For a complete switch, that night Darin and I were audience to a phenomenal electric storm that shook our house to the foundation and left 40,000 without power.

Tuesday dawned dry and cool. I spent a lovely afternoon swimming laps at a local pool.

Chicago weather is a ride, man.