Vicious Valentine...
This morning I walked to A&P at 8:30am to purchase things to bake for my housemates for Valentine's day. I barely made it. Due to the incessant blindness caused by snow and wind, and the continual discomfort of my oh-so-inadequate sneakers filling up with snow, it was a struggle to say the least. So, in keeping with the weather theme from the last post (sort of) and continuing the tradition of developing a new theorem regarding Le Jour D'Amour, I give you my latest brainstorm...
It's hard not to notice how forehead-freezing awful it is in Kingston. As soon as you step outside, you are high-stepping through about 2 feet of snow and the wind reaches out to slap your face like you got too fresh...and fresh you are after the windy blast you receive. Usually cold air. Usually up your coat. Usually makes one feel like the best thing to do would be to surrender immediately: stop, drop, and ball.
I think I have the atmospheric misery of Valentine's day figured out once again. It all has to do with being caught in the middle of a lover's quarrel.
As we all know, Mother Nature and Father Time have been together since, like, Genesis. When they were first dating, everything was fresh and new and perfect. Things were looking good. Fast forward a few trillion years, and here we are: the delinquent products of creation, practically seeking out more ways to mess this place up. My guess is that Mother Nature is pretty stinking mad. Aside from flat out destroying her, we've turned into a bunch of proverbial daddy's girls (that goes for girls and guys) and spend most of our time trying to figure out how F.T. will let us live a little longer and look a whole lot younger. Mama feels slighted, with good reason.
It stands to reason then, that with all of us playing our part in the divide and conquer game, that Pops may be so preoccupied that he forgets Valentine's day. That is not going to go over well in an eons-old relationship that's been on the rocks for a while. Who's mom going to take it out on? She can't directly affect Papa T. too much, so why not try to make the ones in the middle pay for the distraction?
Enter winter in the worst way.
Makes perfect sense, no? I think yes. This leads me to the second part of my installment for this entry, since I am fortunate to be escaping said lover's quarrel as of Saturday, and making my escape to the Dominican Republic. I give you:
Top Ten Things You Will Never Hear Me Utter While In The Dominican:
10. I wish I would have thought to bring my bathing suit. Why didn't anyone tell me we'd be swimming?
9. Look at my gorgeous tan.
8. I wish I was just a little bit more burnt.
7. Tap water, anyone?
6. Let's go to bed at 9pm.
5. It's too hot
4. Let's put on sunscreen and roll in the sand
3. Anyone up for some non-competitive beach volleyball?
2. Who wants to have a sandball fight!?
1. I wish it would snow.
I hope everyone has a spectacular Feb 17-24, reading week or not. If you have bets on what degree my burns will be, place them now, I'll be sure to fill everyone in when I get back :P
Adios!
The soon to be not-so-pale horse.
It's hard not to notice how forehead-freezing awful it is in Kingston. As soon as you step outside, you are high-stepping through about 2 feet of snow and the wind reaches out to slap your face like you got too fresh...and fresh you are after the windy blast you receive. Usually cold air. Usually up your coat. Usually makes one feel like the best thing to do would be to surrender immediately: stop, drop, and ball.
I think I have the atmospheric misery of Valentine's day figured out once again. It all has to do with being caught in the middle of a lover's quarrel.
As we all know, Mother Nature and Father Time have been together since, like, Genesis. When they were first dating, everything was fresh and new and perfect. Things were looking good. Fast forward a few trillion years, and here we are: the delinquent products of creation, practically seeking out more ways to mess this place up. My guess is that Mother Nature is pretty stinking mad. Aside from flat out destroying her, we've turned into a bunch of proverbial daddy's girls (that goes for girls and guys) and spend most of our time trying to figure out how F.T. will let us live a little longer and look a whole lot younger. Mama feels slighted, with good reason.
It stands to reason then, that with all of us playing our part in the divide and conquer game, that Pops may be so preoccupied that he forgets Valentine's day. That is not going to go over well in an eons-old relationship that's been on the rocks for a while. Who's mom going to take it out on? She can't directly affect Papa T. too much, so why not try to make the ones in the middle pay for the distraction?
Enter winter in the worst way.
Makes perfect sense, no? I think yes. This leads me to the second part of my installment for this entry, since I am fortunate to be escaping said lover's quarrel as of Saturday, and making my escape to the Dominican Republic. I give you:
Top Ten Things You Will Never Hear Me Utter While In The Dominican:
10. I wish I would have thought to bring my bathing suit. Why didn't anyone tell me we'd be swimming?
9. Look at my gorgeous tan.
8. I wish I was just a little bit more burnt.
7. Tap water, anyone?
6. Let's go to bed at 9pm.
5. It's too hot
4. Let's put on sunscreen and roll in the sand
3. Anyone up for some non-competitive beach volleyball?
2. Who wants to have a sandball fight!?
1. I wish it would snow.
I hope everyone has a spectacular Feb 17-24, reading week or not. If you have bets on what degree my burns will be, place them now, I'll be sure to fill everyone in when I get back :P
Adios!
The soon to be not-so-pale horse.
posted by A Horse(wo)man at 1:51 PM
1 Comments:
I love a tall cool glass of tap water as a DR souvenir...
Preferably the kind with Hepatitis tainted ice cubes, just to cover all the bases.
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