Tuesday, March 04, 2003

"We Had It Really Rough, You Know"

I'm SO sick of winter. Aren't you sick of it, too? Grey snow everywhere, no-self-respecting-lizard-would-ever-be-this-dry skin, static electricity tormenting me every time I touch anything, cold feet in bed, no leaves, no flowers, road salt and sand getting in my clogs and tracking in on every carpet, can't go out for a walk at night without chapping my face and lips, ice in my car door lock, heavy snow and ice breaking all the little branches on my delicate dogwood trees, quick goodbyes in the car with J instead of prolonged kissy and huggy ones, not enough dress pants for work to go a week without wearing the same old ones again, warming up the car for eons before being able to drive, and black ice. Yuck, pooey, yuck, pooey. Welcome to my grey winter world. Where is Mr. Heat Meiser?

Of course, the minute after the seasons change and we go right into a premature summer again, I'll be bitching about how hot it is, and how I long for hot chocolate and cozy chenille sweaters again, and how much I loathe the weeds from hell springing up in every corner of the unruly yard. Complaining is sport in my neck of the woods, and light conversation tends to be one-upsmanship about how crappy your life is versus the next guy, but done in an amusing way. Mind you, I'm not complaining about the complaining! I find entertaining complainers to be almost like story-tellers. The worse your lot is, the more hyperbole thrown into the mix for comedic effect, the better I like it.

I'm reminded of the Monty Python sketch where they all sit around talking about how hard they had it growing up, and the stories get wilder and wilder. I don't remember exactly how the tale tales went, but I seem to remember Michael Palin going on in a burst of drool-spewing frenzy, "My whole family lived in a hole in the road, seven of us! We had to get up at 2 in the morning, two hours *before* we went to bed the night before, go work in the coal mines all day, and our father would MURDER us in our beds every night! THAT'S how hard WE had it!" I'm not doing it justice, but trust me, pee-in-your-pants funny.

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