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Traffic congestion could slow commuters in the Wyoming Valley this morning

DIVIDED AMERICA: Bridging the gap between police, policed

<p>Everyone is all: &#8220;Yay! Fourth of July! Let&#8217;s party! Let&#8217;s drink! Let&#8217;s party some more!&#8221;</p><p>And here&#8217;s me: home and snug as a bug in the proverbial rug, reading, eating Cheez-Its and sipping tepid ginger ale. Just the way I like my celebrations.</p><p>Every party has a pooper and I&#8217;m a summer holiday party pooper of the highest magnitude.</p><p>There. I said it. Let the outrage begin.</p><p>I can&#8217;t say for certain when and how this discomfort began, but I have a few ideas.</p><p>We grew up with a massive built-in pool. The entire Jiunta clan were supreme swimmers, each one ranked higher than the next on the swim team of their designated school.</p><p>Except me.</p><p>I cannot swim.</p><p>I know enough not to drown myself in anything other than Grey Goose, but just barely.</p><p>My brother insists this neurosis began when a neighbor warned me if I paddle to the deep end of our pool, I&#8217;d never return. Such satanic meanderings to the ears of a very impressionable, non-athletic youngster. However it all began, I hate the water. I will go into the ocean only up to my hairy knee caps and then plop onto the sand like a beached whale. Hyperbole intended.</p><p>I&#8217;ll sometimes also dip into a pool, but only to wrestle the raft from a small child.</p><p>I will flip him right off that raft, with no second thoughts, especially if it has a cocktail holder.</p><p>That&#8217;s my idea of a healthy swim.</p><p>Also, like your dogs during these hot holidays, I&#8217;m terrified of the sound of fireworks. I feel like I age a quarter century every time one goes off near my house.</p><p>It messes with my central nervous system. My mother was the same way. If I was inclined to Google this disorder, I&#8217;m certain it has a name. But I really don&#8217;t need one more psychosis to add to my ever-growing list of deep seated issues and hypochondria-based ailments.</p><p>Plus, and this will only be understood by my BC counterparts, it doesn&#8217;t matter if you&#8217;ve had implants, one boob, a uni-boob or no boobs &#8230; bathing suits are an enormous summertime challenge. Even with a complete set, I never looked fabulous in bathing suits, and now! Now I look like a little boy playing dress up. And I&#8217;m not judging little boys who play dress up, believe me. They&#8217;d probably fit into my suit better than I do.</p><p>Whenever I try on any number of shirts from my past life or a bathing suit, I can actually cry. My husband always rolls his eyes and says: &#8220;Who cares?&#8221;</p><p>Ummm, me. I care.</p><p>He wouldn&#8217;t understand unless his you-know-what was dismantled. Sure, they sell bathing suits with inserts, but that&#8217;s like plunging into the water with two honeydew melons stuffed into your suit.</p><p>Just yuck.</p><p>Kudos to you who manage this strategy, but it&#8217;s not for me.</p><p>So, I wear a regular old suit with inverted cups and hope everyone else is just too drunk to notice.</p><p>And, summer also means shorts.</p><p>Ugh.</p><p>At a certain age, those varicose veins and broken capillary tattoos dotting our legs make them look more like Mapquest than extremities. I haven&#8217;t found a pair of shorts yet that make my legs look like something other than oak tree and, say, more like smooth stems.</p><p>Not happening.</p><p>But I do enjoy a nice capri! Capris are a middle-aged gals&#8217; best friend. Along with Spanx, Jergen&#8217;s Natural Glow Moisturizer and Mira-Lax.</p><p>Well, we&#8217;re almost halfway to Labor Day and I suppose I can capri it for a few more weeks.</p><p>On the upside &#8230; only five more months until Christmas!</p><p>You&#8217;re welcome and kids, protect your raft.</p><style>
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<div class="metaInfo"><bylineMeta><p>Maria Jiunta Heck</p><p>Life Deconstructed</p></bylineMeta></div><div class="metaInfo"><shirttailMeta><p>Maria Jiunta Heck of West Pittston is a mother of three and a business owner who lives to dissect the minutiae of life. Send Maria an email at mariajh40@msn.com.</p></shirttailMeta></div>

Life Deconstructed: For a few, summer is a bummer