The Sun Is A Vampire

This thought occurred to me earlier this week whilst I was pedaling along on my bike, feeling my skin shrink beneath the sun's yellow gaze. It was afternoon, above 105 but less than 110, sunny, and while I was still sort of getting used to riding after taking the summer off. And the sun was stealing my energy from me. It shot out at me, forced its presence on me, dried out my skin and made me sweat, then sucked up that sweat as soon as it formed. I kept pedaling because that's how the world works; but I grew more and more tired, feeling as if I was pedaling against the sun itself.

It's in that act of stealing from me that I happened upon it: "the sun is a vampire." As any will know who have studied a bit of literature, vampirism (which is quite frequently a part of Gothic novels/stories, as in of course Edgar Allan Poe) doesn't have to include supernatural figures that go under the name of vampires. It can simply be that act of taking something, like a person's energy or life force, from someone else. It's sort of like a person simultaneously weighing someone down and using him.

That's what the sun did to me. And my comparison I find makes sense on another level: in the seduction. I've often found an almost sensuous quality to the sun (please don't think I'm too weird for saying that: it's just a literary/poetical thing), just as there is that aspect to vampires/vampirism. And, of course, the sun is synonymous with heat, so there you go. The sun is a vampire.

Optimism Over Pessimism.

Today is kind of trying to be "one of those days." But I don't want to allow that.

I don't have class on Fridays, but I had a meeting on campus for a group project, so I had breakfast and did some reading, then took my bike over. The weather today is probably the warmest of the year so far, which is nice . . . but also, well, warm. After my ride, I go to our designated meeting spot and wait. Two people had emailed that they wouldn't be able to make it, and as I was waiting one more person emailed the same message. But I thought, well, that's okay, there are still about three more people. So I sit there. And I wait. And then I take out a book for another class and start reading so as not to waste time. One o'clock turns into 1:15, then 1:30; I leave at 1:40, not having seen any of my group.

Oh, well, I say, as I go back to my bike to head home. Then as I'm waiting at an intersection just by home, I see a thorn in my front tire. I pick it out and listen to air squeezing out of the inner-tube. I contemplate how much money is in my bank account while hurrying to pedal the last half-block before all the air is gone. I get home hungry, thirsty, and grumpy.

But it's still okay. Thirsty is easily remedied by water, and I found a nice apple to snack on while watching Kaleb Nation's newest video. The video turns out to be great, and my smiles chase away the grumpiness (most of it, at least).

I used to be obsessed with the word "balance." Sometimes, like now, I'm reminded of why. Sometimes it's too easy to fall into pessimism, but even a single optimistic bit can tip that balance right back in favor of contentment. And that, in turn, is why even YouTube videos can serve many purposes: they can be that one spark that brings you back up and into focus. (Which I certainly need since I, once again, find myself needing to read hundreds of pages this weekend . . . )

Miraculous, No?

I have lately taken to riding my bike to classes. Because I am a newcomer to biking and because it is very much still summer in this place where I dwell, I only ride halfway, taking the bus for the second half. It sounds rather too complicated, but it's beginning to suit me. I have the chance to get a little exercise in during my daily routine (and spend some time outdoors) and it doesn't take an extraordinary amount of time to get to campus.

But here is the thing about spending time outside in Phoenix: you sweat. No matter if you're just sitting outside and you're not even uncomfortable, if the temperature is over a hundred, you will sweat. It's inevitable. It just happens. So if you're riding your bike, even for just fifteen minutes (although I must add that my route does have a bit of slope to it, as well), you will sweat just a bit more. And the thing is, I like to wear makeup. In summer, I have to be conscious of what makeup I am wearing. For one thing, blush and bronzer are out of the question: your face gains enough color on its own. I worry about my eyeshadow not sticking, but thanks to the wondrous Urban Decay Eyeshadow Primer Potion, no matter how much I am outside, my eyeshadow will stay on from dawn to dusk. Eyeliner is a little more iffy, I always feel. I usually carry my eyeliner with me in case I need a touch-up.

But I hardly ever do. It's almost like sweat acts as another primer, glueing the eyeliner in place. I get to campus and glance in a mirror cautiously, but the makeup is still on. I get home and do the same, and though my face be reddened from the afternoon sun, there sits the eyeliner not so different from how it was in the morning. Amazing, no?

(All of this rambling is simply my way of putting off writing my first paper for the semester. I have finished practically all my other work for the week, so I don't have too many more reasons to put off the paper. But it can at least wait until after lunch, right?)