CityView Magazine

6 July 2023 Mary Zahran, who tries to stay out of dressing rooms as much as possible, may be reached at maryzahran@ gmail.com. SOMEDAY YOU'LL THANK ME My love-hate relationship with summer BY MARY ZAHRAN A s I write these words on a mild morning in late May, I am both looking forward to and dreading the coming days of summer. I have decidedly strong feelings about the four seasons: I love fall and winter, so long as they are not too warm; and I like spring, once the pollen disappears. But my feelings about summer can only be described as a mixture of delight and disgust. When I was a little girl, the delightful part of summer began on the last day of school. I looked forward to endless days of sleeping late and countless hours of reading books. I remember joining the Summer Reading Club sponsored by the public library, which offered weekly programs for children. I remember getting my hands stamped with images of rainbows, ice cream cones, or beach balls, depending on what the program's theme was for that particular year. Because I read so many books, my hands were completely covered with stamps. I would be very careful not to wash the tops of my hands so the artwork would not disappear. Obviously, I was more interested in aesthetics than hygiene. I also enjoyed going to vacation Bible school. I knew a lot of children who didn't like it. ey complained about not being able to play baseball or sleep late because their mothers had enrolled them in what one boy named David constantly referred to as "this stupid church junk." While I was busy making jewelry out of macaroni and watching films of Jesus finding lost sheep and preaching to his followers, David was busy gluing his fingers together or snorting when Jesus found the lost sheep. I don't know what happened to David in later years, but I sometimes wonder if he became a minister. Summer took on a much different feeling as I grew up. I could no longer sleep late or read for hours because I was now working to save money for college. As I moved into the adult world, I discovered that this season I had once loved so much had many drawbacks unknown to me as a child. I already knew how hot and humid the weather could be, and I was all too familiar with the large bug population that loved to feast on people when they were sweaty and scantily clad. While I enjoyed the longer days, I also knew the summer heat provided the perfect atmosphere for hurricanes to form and eventually land on our shores. My discovery of all these unpleasant realities became even more personal as I moved from my teen years into full-fledged adulthood. I discovered, for instance, that I needed to try on bathing suits in order to find ones that actually fit me instead of ordering them from the Sears and Roebuck catalog. is time of year became scarier to me than anything Halloween had to offer. e dressing rooms had full-length mirrors that forced me to look at every inch of my body, including areas I didn't want to see. e fluorescent lights didn't help, either. Why stores want women to look plump and pale when trying on swimsuits is a mystery I have yet to unravel. If the dressing room ordeal wasn't humiliating enough, I could always count on Mother Nature to finish the job of crushing my self-esteem. Any woman who has endured a Sandhills summer knows what the heat and humidity can and will likely do to her hair. I remember one July morning when I washed, conditioned, dried, and styled my hair, only to stand in front of the mirror a short time later and see a creature from a science fiction movie who looked as though she had been caught in an electrical storm that had singed her hair. Not only that, but it had also rearranged the tresses on the top of her head in a random and bizarre pattern never before seen in nature. Anyone who thinks Mother Nature doesn't have an evil streak in her needs to rethink that notion. I eventually made peace with my mixed feelings about summer. I find my enjoyment of this season in any way I can, and I tolerate or avoid the things I dislike. Aer all, fall will be here soon enough. www.FCPR.us | (910) 433-1547

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