So I went to Texas, I came back, and life carries on.
Winter appears to now be official. We all know how much I love winter. As in, every year I wonder why the hell I still live in this cold damned country. The older I get, the less I can handle this shit.
Though I’m trying to deny it’s existence, I know winter is here.
I have stopped wearing my work shoes to work. Because walking on the ice in heels is dumb. And cold. My shoes now live at work, and my hardcore winter boots get me to and from work.
It now takes me 5 minutes to get dressed to go outside. By the time I’m on the last layer and then finally, the toque, I’m sweating like a monster. Of course, this sweat freezes the second I make it outside, causing me to curse.
I continue to curse at the icy sidewalks and the bastards who don’t shovel them, you know, until my bloody jaw freezes. When it gets really cold, I cannot speak. I sound like a total drunk, slurring my words and not able to control my face.
I know winter is here because I can no longer shower in the mornings. If I do, when I go outside, my hair freezes into semi-permanent dreads. Little chunks of ice hanging from my head. This is not cool, so during the winter, I shower at night.
I have seen my first ice-slip victim. She slipped this evening coming out of a corner store. I laughed at her. Then I wanted to cry, cuz I knew that the first slip and fall is the true signal of winter’s arrival.
I’m unable to go out without a scarf and a toque and I’m seriously wondering where the hell my gloves are.
Christmas shit is up. Lights are on the houses and everything is green and red.
The Christmas drinks are here at Second Cup and Starbucks. This is the only good thing about winter if you ask me.
I’ve started to freak out about Christmas gifts. I’m the worst gift-buyer in the world, the whole season is very stressful to me.
And by the way, after last year’s drama over choosing whether or not to go home for Christmas, I made the decision early this year. I’m not going. I have finally learned from 8 years of going back home and hating my decision once I get there. This time, I’m just not going to go and I’m going to spend Christmas with those who I love. Not to say that I don’t love my family, cuz that is not the case. However, my immediate family and I are on permanently shaky ground and my friends are a much bigger part of my life and I would rather spend the time with them this year.
I still don’t have my ice-legs back yet. This is proving to be a problem and I hope to recover them quickly. For those of you not living above the 49th parallel or directly underneath, you may not know what ice-legs are. Well. They are what you must use in order to walk in the winter. You need to learn how to tighten up your legs and ass in a way so that you don’t slip when transferring weight from one foot to the other. It’s very tricky. The first few times you need to pull the walk back out, you’ll feel it the next morning. However, if you walk unabashedly like you normally would, you will find your ass on the cold cold ground quicker than you can say, ‘I fucking hate you winter!’ It involves a lot of fine hamstring finesse, I find.
Half of my wardrobe is now useless. I will not see my arms for the next five months because I will only be wearing long-sleeved sweaters from now until May. Goodbye elbows. See you next year.
I’m not sure how I’m going to make it through this winter. I suspect with the aid of alcohol and by not looking or going outside. And, not to be underestimated, by laughing at those who fall on their asses when I do have to go out. Noobs.
If you’re Canadian, don’t even try to tell me you haven’t found a sweet spot and watched people turf it for a few minutes. Cuz you’re lying to me. And yes, after months of cabin fever, it really IS that funny.