We are well into November by now, the calendar tells me, and yet the stupid fucking weather forecast for New Wye has temperatures in the 70s this week. It is a goddamned crime; I tell you. This frustrates me more than I can adequately describe — after a summer of humidity and heat in the 90s and 100s, I still have not managed to stop sweating. Fucking November and it is still humid. I still have the air conditioning on. It is on RIGHT THIS SECOND, in fact, at 10:25 at night. My hair is still curly and frazzled from the wet, locker-room-esque air, and has been for as long as I can remember. I am about ready to murder someone.
All of this makes the sweater-dress I purchased today seem a very ill-considered decision indeed. Nonetheless, it is very cute:
And it will look excellent with my knee-high leather boots (provided I ever get the chance to wear them again).
In spite of the extremely horrible and unseasonable weather, I am still feeling very wintery myself. It is the time of year — appropriate temperatures or not — to curl up on the couch with a blanket and a huge mug of hot coffee and have cozy, wintery, semi-sad thoughts. Goddamn it all, I am determined to do this. My friend Golightly and I were discussing the appropriate music for this in the car today while listening to The Decemberists, and we both agreed that they are an ideal band for such a situation. Go listen to a few of my favorites and see if you disagree.
I was originally feeling the need to make this post all rambly and long, but I have just realized that I have a whole big stupid article I assigned for tomorrow that I have not even read yet. OOPS. I’d better get to that.
I don’t know how it’s so hot there when it’s nipple-cripplingly cold here. In fact, I know how cold it is in your neck of the woods and it’s not 70. Are you having hot-flashes or something?
Here, it’s freakin’ 33 degrees out right now, and only 50 degrees inside the house!!! Ok, so we don’t have heat right now… but I’m wearing a few layers on top, sweat pants, my husband’s fluffy warm socks and my winter nightgown over everything. And I’ve been huddled up under a blanket on the couch with husband and dogs.
Do you really have the air on? Really???
Seriously??? Really??? I’m freezing my ass off, here, Dr. Vague!!!
Ugh, yes, really! I woke up this morning after turning the AC off for the night and it was 75 in my apartment. Google tells me it’s colder outside, but I haven’t been out yet. My apartment is SO HOT ALL THE TIME; I have never even turned the heat on in a year and a half of living here.
But it’s not just the apartment. In New Wye, I’ve also never: needed hats or gloves. I’ve only once: worn a winter coat or winter boots (on both occasions it was more for fashion than for warmth). It’s supposed to be 72 on Thursday, and, like 68 every other day. I want to cry.
I am willing to trade places with you! You want snow, I want heat – it’s a perfect arrangement. What do you say?
OMG yes! Except that I will get to move to Europe, and you will be stuck in New Wye, which of course is really [redacted], which of course is a shitty place to live, especially for a cosmopolitan dude such as yourself. I am just warning you! So yeah, send me those keys and I will head on over. Does your landlord allow dogs?!
Yes, the landlords in France allow dogs – the public transportation does not. In fact, Europe is much more dog-friendly than North America. Switzerland allows dogs everywhere – restaurants, trains, buses, apartments, department stores, etc…. The Swiss love dogs. The only place I couldn’t take my dog when I first moved to Switzy was the grocery store (for health reasons). Everywhere else? Fair game.