One of the lovely things about The Virgin Manny is the adorable young college man with the solid pecs standing in front of a swimming pool in the summer.
I love this picture.
Yes, Tino is cute, but mostly?
The picture is warm. So warm.
California is in the process of maybe not crisping away and withering sere into the furnace wind of the central valley. It’s a painful process, as you might imagine, made worse by the fact that we have not endured it for nearly five years.
As God is my witness, I’d forgotten magic sky water was so cold.
I mean, you get cocky, right?
Winter, what’s winter? This is fuckin’ California–I’ll make it through winter with my capris and my flip-flops like my stepmom and her mom did before me. Yeah, sure, I got hoodies– who wants to know? Throw a scarf on me, let me find my fingerless mittens from last year, and I’m takin’ this season on by the teeth, I tell you, by the fuckin’ TEETH!
Except now, after a week of cold temperatures (Oh my STARS, it got to 31 degrees here, can you believe that? Simply believe it? The frozen precipitation of end times almost graced our humble valley!) and magic sky water, I have a confession to make.
I’m sorry–I have to apologize to the Tough Old Broads Association, the Gnarly Geezers, and yes, even the Middle-Aged Muffins, who I’m sure have all shown more backbone than I have. But I have to say it. Oh, yes, people, I really do.
I’m fuckin’ COLD.
I went walking this morning an my feet got wet and cold, and I took off the shoes so the wet went away, but the cold stayed ALL DAY. I wore capris because, you know, Tough Old Broad or Middle-Aged Muffin, capris are good for all temperatures, right?
WRONG!
I came home and put on pajama pants and my entire body sighed in relief. Holy shit and pass the big stretchy socks, who knew ankles lost so much body heat!!!
And the worst thing?
The absolutely WORST thing?
I lost my one fingerless mitt. (For those of you who are new, I make a pair every year and then, sometime during the winter, lose one. Just one. Which is why I make a new pair every year. I suspect my cat sleeps on them in a corner of the house at night, and laughs her ass off.)
I bought a cheap pair of mittens and cut off the finger and thumb-tips so I can function, but they’re acrylic, guys. ACRYLIC. These mitts might have possibly kept the dinosaur warm when he was pumping this shit as blood, but it’s not particularly warm NOW.
So there. I said it. And I’m relieved.
I’m cold. I’m freezing my tits off. They’re gonna fall to my feet, and I’m going to use them to bowl for the heads of my enemies, and then summer’s gonna come and I’m gonna be bummed. No more tits. I’ll say the winter did them in, it was such a tragedy, for fuckin’ real.
*whew*
Okay. My epic whine about the cold is over. You can all stop laughing at my expense now–by the time you see this I’ll be cuddled up with Mate, two dogs, two cats, and two of exactly the same cotton quilts which keep Mate and Petris family and I toasty warm.
And I’ll be warm. Ever so warm.
And really appreciative of those of you who live in the snow and see temperatures in the negatives and who live in the Mitten (Kaje Harper, I’m looking at you!) and laugh at us soft low-landers as we cuddle and whine.
Go ahead and laugh. I deserve it. But by golly, I can stand a good laugh if my feet are warm.
And you know, in the end?
We really do need the rain.
