Summer driving. I have never been a high-maintenance girl when it comes to my outward appearance. Not to say I walk around looking like doody all the time, but I am not one of those women who feels naked without makeup or throws a hissy fit if her hair is askew. This is especially helpful during Seattle's summer months when it is generally too warm to keep the car windows up but not hot enough to merit cranking up the A/C. Having air conditioning in a house is pretty unheard of in this part of the country (well, until climate change reared its ugly head) and I can't remember a single instance of pumping cold air into the car until I visited my friend Claire in Arizona after college, so it makes sense that I've always opted for a tumbleweed of knotted hair come July instead of a perfect 'do at the expense of a sweat-soaked t-shirt. I'm assuming, Jason, that as an L.A. native you're a fan of turning on the A/C, but if we're ever cruising around town together and you get the sudden urge to feel the wind in your luscious locks and do that weird thing where you cut the air with your hand in a serpentine motion, I won't stop you from dropping the windows down. In fact, my right arm would appreciate the chance to finally turn the same sun-kissed color as my left one.
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