I know that this month is what we call August.
I know that this season is what we call High Summer.
I know that when I went outside this afternoon, I felt like I was wearing a sweater made of flames, rather than a light, rather kicky Custo t-shirt.
I know that all the skinny girls on 3rd St. are wearing shorts and patternless tank tops of unmemorable color.
I know that it's sticky.
I know that it's sweaty.
I know that the air in Los Angeles has been thick, heated and clogging.
I know that we're expected to eat FRUIT for dessert during these blighted months.
I know for a fact that it was 80 degrees at the beach today, and frankly, I'm disgusted.
But I still have to ask just one question…
Will it be Christmas soon?
(See that tree ornament on the lower branch? It looks like it's brushing against my patent leather shoe? I still have it. It's pink, a bit faded, and I would never throw it away.)