I’m not holding my breath, but it is starting to look good for a nice, nasty snowstorm. I do so hope it is on its way, because I would very much enjoy utilizing my fireplace this season.

At Bennigans yesterday, I was in a short-sleeved cotton top. Another girl actually had on a tank top. (I think she was prettier than me, but I took comfort in noticing the dark roots of her blonde hair.) Way too warm–as it has been–for winter!!! And I’m the kind of person who likes my seasons “seasonal.” For pete’s sake! Is that too much to ask?

Speaking of which, do you ski? Snow ski, that is? Because, although when one uses the word “ski” it is taken for granted they mean snow skiing, there is also water skiing, which I prefer. Actually, despite the fact that most of my family and friends do snow ski, I don’t.

But I do go to the slopes. I get all dressed up in my ski bunny (“I look so hot because I’m so hip”) ensemble, don my designer sunglasses, and then go–as I call it–“hang out with the beautiful people.”

Which means everything but ski: Flirting in the bar (once talked a ski lodge chef out of some fantastic “secret” recipes), checking out the coffee shop (most have Starbucks now), shopping the specialty and souvenir shops and people-watching from behind my Versace’s. I’ve never even tried on a pair of skis. Nor do I intend to.

I don’t like snow sports. I even detested sledding as a child. Cold and wet is not fun for me. There are only three ways I enjoy my snow:

1. Blizzards–from the inside! That is, I like ’em when I’m tucked within the safety of my home and can watch from a window as the snow piles up, flake by flake, cutting off the world, at least for a while. God’s personal OK for me to fuck off. Which means I can do absolutely anything or nothing, as long as it has absolutely no intrinsic value.
2. Walking in the snow in the middle of the night. To be out there in the absolute stillness of the dark night, mittened hands deep in wool pockets, winter scarf and hat pulled snuggly, boots and legwarmers…all alone, me and the snow.
3. Jogging in the snow. It just makes it more interesting, though you have to–for safety’s sake–run a tad slower than you normally do.

So, keep your fingers crossed for me.

It’s a marshmellow world in the winter
when the snow comes to cover the ground.
It’s sugar date.
What if spring is late?
We wait for it the whole year round.
tra la la

This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 8th, 2006 at 5:55 pm and is filed under Rhetorically Yours. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.