Humidity: 57.3% Humiliation: 100%

Ok so...outing number 3....The Cook-Out at Dartmouth's pad. As you can see from previous entries I was scared shitless, slightly hungover but, I gotta admit, still lookin pretty bangin. I put on my favorite maxi dress and mapquest the directions. It cant be that far, we live in the same metro stop area. TWO MILES. I'll walk it. I decide there are three upsides to this:

1. Time to relax.
2. Get some exercise.
3. Its absolutely gorgeous outside.

So I grab my phone, a bottle of water, my humidity detector and walk out the door, directions in hand. At this point I realize I really need to up my game. I look and feel like I am living in 1998. I copied, in pencil, the directions on a peice of pink, wide ruled notebook paper. Why, oh, why do I not have a blackberry? Carrie, step into the 21st century.

My walk took me through Howard University. I could not understand why everyone says its such a bad area. Its beautiful and I got to stop into my favorite clothing store, Up Against the Wall. It the largest one I have ever been in so you can imagine my excitement. Is it kind of cliche that Howard University WOULD be home to the largest Up Against the Wall in America? Enough pondering that, I am grateful. I browse and then head on my way, noting that this is a great spot for an emergency outfit.

This is the point when I really start sweating. It's pouring down my face. I will relate it to Sarah's sweat attack at her engagement party. Hopefully, I looked as collected as she did.

An hour later, I arrive at the BBQ. After meeting all of Dartmouth's friends, who all look like they just stepped out of a sailing competition (I guess Dartmouth will do that to you), I take a seat in a lawn chair. Not knowing anyone and feeling a little shy, I strike up a conversation with the gentleman seated next to me. Obviously, he asks me “what do you do?” I cant stand this question. Well I DO a lot of things but I assume you are asking me about my work so I guess Ill start there. I explain to him that I work for a property management firm…yadda, yadda, yadda….I actually have an air quality tester in my purse. I cant stay long because I need to head over to my girlfriends house and give her a reading.

I realize something else about myself at this moment. Not only do I get nervous around professional athletes (Ovie), I also get nervous at BBQ's. Clearly, I was mute again. Several embarrassing moments later after telling my Alex Ovechkin pole dance story, the weather comes up in conversation. “It’s a beautiful day out. Not really humid. Perfect for sittin outside, having some brews and relaxin in the sun.” “Yeah,” someone else chimes in, “I wonder what the temperature is.” All of a sudden my new friend pipes up and announces that I can let them know the temperature and the humidity. Kill. Me. Now.

All heads turn in my direction with inquisitive looks on their faces. How does this random girl know the humidity levels? Do I have a sixth sense? Can my breasts tell it's raing a la Karen from Mean Girls? At this point I wish any of the above were plausible. I undesirably pick up my purse and ever so slowly pull out the tool. I grabbed the part that shows the read and pull from there. The next thing everyone sees is a long, thick phone cord and finally the fan. People are laughing at me, or at this device. I am not too sure. I. Want. To. DIE!

Sidenote: This humidity decetor device looks like what soldiers used in WWI to call for backup. Think, the musical South Pacific. Take a look: http://www.grainger.com/Grainger/items/4PC72 (the one I have has a fan, not a probe)

What I did next, I know John, the engineer who lent me the tool, will appreciate. After turning it on, I flick my wrist like never before. Flicking your wrist is key to humidity detection. I am laughing, not because it was funny, but because I am so embarrassed. As I am flicking, someone asks me a question about the device. I didn’t answer because at this point I am laughing so hard tears are streaming down my face. They then retort that using this 1953 time warped looking device requires mayjah concentration. Still flicking, I announce that the temperature is 82 degrees with a 57.3 percent humidity. Normally, I would not have cared about being laughed at but:

Number 1: I am completely sober.
Number 2: This all occurred in front of my new manfriend (who graduated from Dartmouth and is a scientist). Needless to say, the first thing I did this morning was call up Jon and give him the device back. I want nothing to do with that EVER again. So bad luck. So over it.