Could I Live Here? The Planet Earth Edition

Recently, on a 95-degree day, I gave new meaning to the term “hot girl summer” by throwing up in a recycled shopping bag in the front seat of my friend’s Jeep truck. Heat and I have never gotten along, and this scorching summer has made me feel the way Jenna Lyons does about the other housewives: she’s forced to tolerate them, but they are not friends.

Me and the heat? We have history. 

I recall getting sun poisoning at Disney as a kid and having to wear long pants in the Florida humidity while my sister frolicked in a strapless shorts romper through the Magic Kingdom. I find hot yoga to be a bendy version of hell, and I came home from two hot weeks in Japan one August and had to be hospitalized for severe dehydration and exhaustion. And though I was born in July and love the beach and long sunny days, I struggle in the summertime and found the news around the worldwide heatwave anxiety producing. 

According to The Washington Post, “News of the hottest June was quickly eclipsed by the declaration of Earth’s hottest day, a record that would be broken 16 more times before the end of July, which registered as Earth’s hottest month.” Arizona was inferno-like and European vacations felt like nightmares of mercury gone wild. Plus, I have often said the heat is for skinny people and women who are always cold. I swear I’m part werewolf and probably won’t even notice a hot flash, as I’ve had them all my life. 

For reference, during the first week of my overly balmy beach vacation last month, I discovered the The Price is Right channel and basked in the Bob Barker glow vs sitting on the beach and baking with my family. By week two, I was puking; by week three, the heat broke, and I was reborn and ready to go outside again. 

All kidding aside, it is beyond concerning that we are at maximum warmth and the Earth is overheating. The New York Times questioned whether the idea of a summer vacation would change as we all try to beat the heat. After all, who wants to stand in line to see the Acropolis in 100-degree temperatures?

So as someone who ponders where to live, I dedicate this post to those of us who are concerned about and (hot and) bothered by the heat. In honor of that, let’s ponder could I live here, the Planet Earth edition. 

At a bone-chilling minus 144 degrees Fahrenheit (minus 98 degrees Celsius), NASA says the East Antarctica Plateau in Antarctica is the coldest place on Earth, according to USA Today.

Further, a small village named Oymyakon in Russia is Earth’s coldest permanently-inhabited place. According to Live Science, average temperatures in Oymyakon reach minus 58 degrees Fahrenheit (minus 50 degrees Celsius). It was initially a destination for reindeer herders to water their herd at a thermal spring. I can’t imagine there is anywhere to get an eyebrow wax or a single process there, let alone a Pilates studio. So, nyet.

According to the Farmer’s Almanac, with a minimum average temperature of about minus 17 degrees Fahrenheit, Fairbanks is the coldest city in the US. The northernmost major city in Alaska, Fairbanks, has seen record cold temperatures reaching minus 66 degrees, followed by Duluth, Grand Forks, Williston, and Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan.

None of these places speak to me, so what about the land of LL Bean, lobstah, and lighthouses?

I visited Maine a few summers ago and fell in love with it. From the relaxed small-city vibe of Portland to sweet, preppy towns like Camden to the outstanding beauty of Acadia, Maine has much to offer. Endless lobster, excellent vintage, and charm out the wazoo make Maine appealing. But let’s unpack what’s essential. Weather, honey. Talk weather to me.

Mainers are hearty folk, and the winters are frigid. Conversely, summer temps traditionally peak around 70 degrees, making it a “cool” choice for someone of my vapor-catching constitution. The median age is 44, making it an excellent choice for our gang. But a lack of diversity and dicey politics make Maine problematic for those used to big-city life. And though traffic is not an issue, public transportation is not great and many complain about the high cost of living.

Year-round seafood comes with a high price tag, with the cost of living 15% higher than in the rest of the country. And according to Zillow, the average Maine home value is $383,137, up 3.5% percent from last year. But in June 2023, in Portland, which has more of a city feel and is less remote, home prices were up 19.1% compared to last year, selling for a median price of $608K. On average, homes in Portland sell after ten days on the market compared to 8 days last year, according to Redfin.

But truthfully, I am very Northeast but not terribly New England. And I once said the outdoors are overrated and can proudly say I have never owned hiking boots, let alone hike. And that Bartles and Jaymes thing. I don’t think so. Uh-nope.

Similarly, I don’t see myself in Alaska or Duluth, for that matter. I’m simply not that hearty, and I like what I like. I don’t like the heat, so what to do as the Earth cooks?

The Verdict

Sure, other places could keep me cool and carrying on. Take Copenhagen or Stockholm; though, in addition to chilly temps, I find the Nordic disposition not warm or fuzzy enough.  And spots like Park City could work (David reminded me it was 68 and sunny this week), but my penchant for outdoor pursuits is non-existent, let alone “winter” sports, so probably not. So with all of this alien meshugas of late, is it time to explore other worlds?  

As someone who has always denied the existence of aliens, perhaps this newfound “proof” of existence will hold the key to a cooler future. I’m ready for a change. I’m sure my thoughts on style will delight the extraterrestrials, and it won’t be long before we screw up their planet, so beam me up, and I’ll get a head start. I’m a woman searching for temperate living so, aliens, if you’re reading, send your finest spaceship my way; intelligent life does not matter, nor does my general distaste for the up-and-coming. I’ll forego my lack of pioneer spirit for a decent forecast.