Because when it's this hot, there really is nothing else to talk about

It's 93 degrees. Not so bad, you say? It's 10:30 pm. Just kill me now.

Worse yet, Baroy is running a half marathon in the morning. The good news is that it's the Disneyland Half Marathon, which involves running through the park. Why is that good news? Because the folks in Walt's employ insist that the marathon be completed before the park opens, so that the park's guests aren't inconvenienced by sweaty, gaspy folks collapsing all over the place, and they don't have to worry about keeping people off the race course. (Frankly, I think it's also so that the marathoners have to pony up the same 3 trillion dollars as the rest of the world if they want to hit the rides after they finish running; don't want them to get 'free' admission with their $100-something race-entry fee, right?) The race thus starts at 6 am, which means Baroy should be done well before 8; the hope is that that means the temps won't actually hit 100 while he's running. (Crazy assed runners; NOTHING could get me to move at a speed above a very slow stroll when it's this hot.)

Kinda sad that tomorrow's the last day of summer vacation, since for a week now, the kids haven't been able to play outside at all, unless they're running through a sprinkler. And even then, it's only after a three-hour sunblock application process, and they come back inside within half an hour, since it hurts to breathe the air outside during the day right now, it's so hot.

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As an aside, say happy birthday to my stepdad, H, who turned 80 today. Happy bday H!