It’s a gazillion degrees in Phoenix. I won’t sit here and give you that sob story, but once it reaches 120 degrees (like it did last Tuesday), I can’t help but wonder why I live here. It’s actually funny, I went to happy hour last week and it felt like a ghost town. No one was out. No one was walking around. But, there we were, two girls catching up over Rosé Popsicles at Garage East. Sometimes even a horrible heat wave can’t keep you away from good friends and cocktails.