Here's something you might not know about California: it gets cold. Really. I swear. Sure, we all wish it was topless Hasselhoff weather three hundred and sixty five days a year because, well: hairy chests a-glistening. But that's just a pipe dream. The deserts routinely dip into the 40s at night and we've got skier on them thar hills.
And here's something you might not know about Californians: we cannot handle the cold. In fact, we can't handle anything beyond a light breeze. When it starts drizzling, we immediately slam on the brakes, throw our hands in the air, and shriek at whatever New Age God we're currently worshipping. When the wind starts blowing, we complain about it's mussing the new hair-do of the tiny dog we all keep in our purses. We don't even own pants.
So you'll agree that the news of possible snowfall in San Francisco is a reason for all out pandemonium. We've got lows today of 26 and lows this weekend are threatening to hover around ice cube temperatures (highs will be more around Ice-T temperatures.*) In fact, it snowed last March while we were in Texas, fainting from heat-stroke and too much pulled pork (if there is such a thing as too much pulled pork, that is). So, in all honesty, I'm hoping for snow. Praying for it, even. I want to make snow angels and snow men and snow avatars and all matter of snow beings. I want to wear mittens with fire trucks on them. I want throw a snowball at someone who won't find it cute or funny. I want to go sledding. I want a toboggan. I want to write my name in freshly fallen snow with my pee. I want to have a sword fight with some icicles and accidentally gouge someone's eye out. I want...
Wait. What's that? We're expecting what? An Inch? An Inch at the absolute most? Well...drat. If you need me, I'll be making dirt angels in that vacant lot over there.
* I hereby apologize to all our readers for that joke. The thespian Ice-T is also unamused. Which is okay. I saw "Leprechaun in the Hood" and "Tank Girl" and I too was unamused. Just repaying the favor, Mr. T.
Friday, January 12, 2007
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8 comments:
I agree, it's f*&^%*g freezing out here. It may only be 38 degrees & people from colder areas are thinking we Californians are wusses, but when you factor in the no pants things it's pretty damn cold.
& yes there is a thing as too much pulled pork, especially when you add too much beer and heat.
But this sounds like a much better place to be right now. Reality is I'm freezing, I have no beer and no meat,nothing but raw veggies and fruit (I'm on a body detox cleanse) So no more talking about food!
If you describe the croissant or pastry you're probably eating of have eaten I may break!& we won't even discuss coffee, even if it's the crappy 7-11 cup of Joe, It's warmth is sorely missed.
Don't worry: the "snow" you missed last March never even made it to the ground. I doubt it will this weekend either. But you can still wear mittens with firetrucks on them! That's an anytime fashion statement...
Sabrina: It's inordinately hard for me not to immediately talk about said croissant after that comment. I will refrain though. I don't want to break thy resolve. When the detox is done, make sure you tox back up. I'd recommend...oh...sorry.
Mittens: As you know, I in fact own these mittens. I know where at least one of them is. Nothing is more attractive than a one-mittened man.
You are a considerate soul.
One of those huh.. only 1 mitten and you still keep it? If it has sentimental value i.e. a baby item. I can understand, but if it's just 1 mitten or 1 sock and you haven't found the friend in months/years. You really should let go.
My boyfriend has a snow suit and a pair of ski gloves. But you see the ski gloves only have 1 fuzzy fleece insert. The other 1 has been missing since before we started to date. 10 yrs have gone by and he hasn't ski'd once. I've always wanted to throw them away but that would be disrepect of his property. I don't see the value but it obviously means something to him.
I always tell him if he dies before I do. I'm burying him in that snow suit and the gloves with the missing fuzzy insert!
This missing item issue is a passionate topic for me since my mom always made us save the lone socks that came out of the dryer. For some reason she always thought they'd someday show up if you threw away the friend. & you'd be out a good pair. She calls the pile of lone socks the cementary of socks (there are a few gloves & mittens in the pile as well). This box has followed us from 1 house to the next and has increased in size over the span of 30+ yrs. It's a SICKNESS!
If you're going for attractive you need to add a rainbow beanie with your name stitched at the front fold in large font.
As for the snow/dirt-men, here's some ideas:
http://www.drurywriting.com/david/05-SnowmanArt.htm
shut up: http://weather.yahoo.com/forecast/USCO0105_f.html
Sindre: You have no idea how many times I've read those. Of course, I just read them all again. Bill Watterson was brilliant.
Webb: High is 9? As in NINE? Yeah. A "shut up" was in order. Drink some cocoa for me.
Ok, since I blog at work, I guess this won't be answered, but here goes....
38 deg. Take it that's F. We work in C. Does that mean about 3? Never seen snow or ever wanted to be that cold. Meaning also, never made snow angels, lost/worn mittens or ski jackets. My life has been so deprived. Dirt angels, however, are another matter entirely....
What the heck is pulled pork? Sounds like something that should be rated....
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