It’s a hundred and twenty degrees everyday here and I don’t regret one bit that I’ve only explored outside once these past two weeks. My west coast skin also thanks me for not frequently visiting the summer weather of Phoenix, Arizona.

So what is a whiter than rice Caucasian ginger born girl doing in the hottest part of the US right now? I’m taking a vacation away from my friends, priorities, and the life I live in the Portland suburbs to visit my father. When I entered his apartment I should have known to not be surprised that all he was squatting in was a folding table dinner set, camping chairs, and some Wi-Fi, but I was surely ecstatic to be able to wrap my arms around my old man's big fat smile and cheer.

My idea of time away from my hometown was to go out and cover as much ground as I could. Protruding sweat that came down like quick sand on my face drowned my itch for adventure. The only time I ventured out was a quick trip out into a downtown area kind of like Portland, Tempe Mesa, but there weren’t very many street people out walking. I could feel that me just walking up and down a few blocks made me stick out, or maybe it was my sweaty red-hot face. It was the closest I have ever got to having a heat stroke, but before I gave up I stumbled upon a few blocks of graffiti. I threw a few more quarters into my parking meter, bought a bottle of water, and captured the art freely decorated on the shops and restaurants.

Ever since that moment downtown I have been scared from the sun. I spent the rest of my time to myself. In my air-conditioned apartment slumming around with my parents. I never felt sorry that I would share a whole day with a book or a Netflix series. I was delighted to spend the extra time I had at the gym. When I was asked at dinner “what did you do today,”

I had no shame in answering “started my day around 1, went to the gym, got my nails done, and stopped by Ulta.”

I swam my days away at the pool, played with my makeup, indulged into new books, and never for a second felt bad that I was doing little production with myself.

With all this time alone I was finally able to gather my thoughts and think about me. I didn’t have to fuss about chores, make plans with my friends, or wait around until I had to go to work. Being alone was the vacation in itself, and it felt great to be so innocently selfish. I tapped back into the girly girl who falls in love with high heels and pink purses, the motivated girl who enjoys stretching and working out, the lazy girl who can veg out on Netflix shows for half the day still in her pajamas with a pint of Ben and Jerry's, and the creative girl who messes around with photography and scribbles into her journal.

My vacation was not what I expected, but more of what I needed. Someone like me who’s always working, studying, gallivanting with friends, and nonstop just going and going and going needs a break from reality. I have never been more content with simply doing nothing.