In Which I Bitch A Lot About the Weather
Forgive me for using my blog as a platform for airing my weather grievances, especially because so many of you have already put up with so much of my complaining. I know I can’t control the weather. But that doesn’t keep me from hating it:
- The temperatures remained mostly in the single digits today. Which is downright balmy compared to the negative temperatures of last week, but still about 50 degrees cooler than my thin Texan blood can reasonably handle.
- Probably most of you have already received numerous personal emails to this effect, but for those of you who haven’t: I spend EIGHTY FUCKING MINUTES every day outside. Did I mention my thin Texan blood? There’s very little I can do about the 80 minutes; it’s just part of my commute and that’s the way it is. I try to look at it as good exercise and fresh air and vitamin D and all that, but it’s very difficult to remain positive when you can no longer feel your face, except for the steady stream of snot and tears brought on by the frigid wind. I take some solace in the fact that at least nobody notices what I mess I am, since their faces are covered with scarves and face masks, too.
- In what I assume is karmic retribution for all of my bitching, I took quite a spill on the bus today. I missed the Metra by about 60 seconds, so I walked another half-block to catch the 6 bus. As I walked down the center aisle of the bus, I slipped in icy water just as the driver gunned it. I fell flat on my back and rammed the back of my head against a metal pole. I’m fine save a headache and a sore left elbow, but I had to be pretty much peeled off the floor by a very nice woman sitting nearby.
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current book: Should finish Goodbye, Columbus any minute now. Some stories were great, some okay. Up next, once I finish this week’s New Yorker: Barbara Kingsolver’s High Tide in Tucson. which I’m pretty excited about. We read an excerpt from it in a writing class I took a year ago, and I really enjoyed it.
current music: The Black Heart Procession’s Tropics del Amore, various Isabella Antenna tunes, The Elected’s Sun, Sun, Sun, and, of course, Margot and the Nuclear So-and-So’s, which I’ve yet to tire of.
current socks: Brown, green, and blue fuzzy argyles.
Posted 7 February 2007
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I honestly don’t understand people who DON’T complain about weather when it is like this.
I’m so sorry you fell on the bus. I hate falling in public, yet I manage to do it frequently. Claire got away from John the other day, pulling him down on the ice and on to the pile of fresh dookey she’d just expelled. At the time I tried to think of anything more miserable, but couldn’t.
Chicago public transportation has exponentially increased my opportunities for public humiliation, that’s for sure.
And ewww. John wins. I can’t think of anything more miserable, either.
Weird, I just listened to a song from that Black Heart Procession album today. The one that sounds like Dr. Dre … “Sympathy Crime,” yeah, that’s it.
I feel your pain LB. While my commute here is not 80 minutes its long enough that that in the sub-zero temperatures we too are facing, I have to wear my calf length down jacket that makes me look pregnant or at least five sizes larger than I actually am and pull the hood over my head and wrap my face in a scarf. Because I am swaddled within an inch of my life there is absolutely no way I can make any sort of eye contact with cute guys I pass on the street and thus the one time of year when I wouldn’t mind crawling into bed with someone else just to keep me warm, I have no chance of enlisting this person because no one does any sort of street or subway flirting with covered faces and runny noses.
I know how you feel. it’s been under 40 for about 2 days now.
i dont know how I can go on…
p.s. re: metra-
If your bus system some kind of radical feminist shuttle?