Tag Archives: cold

Now it’s too late to go skiing

Man, this was the longest winter ever and I don’t feel like I took advantage of it at all. I only went skiing once, and it was in February. Yeah, the snow was great, perfect powder, that’s how real ski people, or the real ski people I’m imagining in my head anyway, that’s how they describe really good snow, powder, some really nice powder. But I only got to go the one time. Whenever it’s summer, fall, when it starts getting really cold but it hasn’t snowed anywhere yet, I always have these visions of me driving up to the mountains every weekend, really taking advantage of that powder, hitting the slopes, getting in some serious downhill time.

But I don’t have a car. And I work every weekend. My days off, well, it’s not the same every week, but it’s Monday, it’s Tuesday. Which, now that I’m thinking about it, those should be great days to go skiing, nobody else on the mountain, all of that powder to myself. But it’s never that easy. My days off finally arrive and then the next thing I know, it’s Saturday again, which, to you, the average reader, is like Wednesday. And I’m like, man, half the week behind me, half of it in front. Where is all of my free time? How am I ever going to find a minute to sneak away to the mountains?

And so when I did finally go this winter, I was pretty conscious that it was probably going to be my only time up there. Or, I was half conscious. The talking part of my brain was just yapping really loud and fast in my head, saying nonsense like, “Wow! This is terrific! Powder! It’s only February! There’ll still be powder in March! I can still go skiing in March! I’ll definitely go skiing in March! So what if there’s no more powder, they make pretty decent snow! It’ll be great!” all while I’m handing over my credit card to pay for the seventy dollar lift ticket, the calculating reptile number part of my brain, it’s not saying anything out loud, it doesn’t have to, that’s not how that side of the brain works. But if I had to translate the thoughts going on in there to English, it would be something like, “Ha. Powder. Please. He’s lucky I allowed him this one weekend. Work. Money. That’s all I care about!”

No car, no other weekends. It’s April already. As of writing this right now, right this second, I’m told that it’s the first day of spring. That’s what they say, anyway. I haven’t left the house yet. I already got fooled once last week with some alleged promise of spring-like weather. My days off were, yup, Monday and Tuesday. And everything for that week’s forecast said fifty, fifty-five degrees. Better break out the windbreaker. I got up that Monday and did my writing, told myself I’d take the dog for an hour long, two-hour long walk, to the park, to just bask in the springtime, finally.

And I made it outside and, yeah, it was slightly warmer, but not what I would really consider warm. I thought about skiing, how in previous winters I’ve been up at the mountains and have had actual days of skiing, dressed in wool socks and down jackets, in temperatures about the same as it was this day. Then the sky got really gray. Once the dog and I got about forty-five minutes away from the house, it started raining, a cold rain. The temperature dropped. I tried to hoof it back home, but the dog had to shake himself dry every five seconds. I was like, “Hey dog! Less shaking and more walking! Shaking isn’t going to do anything because you’re still going to be wet, it’s still raining,” but that’s when you know you’re in a bad spot, when you’re just yelling at your dog, him not understanding anything, his thought process must have been like, “Man, what did I do to be dragged out of my warm house and subjected to this water torture?”

We got home. The temperature dropped even more that night. The thermostat kicked in but I already had a chill in my body. That night I went to sleep shivering, and I dreamt of being cold, of being cold but taking advantage of that cold, getting into my imaginary dream car and heading up to that imaginary mountain, abundant with imaginary powder. And I thought to myself in my dream, “See? I knew I’d take advantage of this winter, that I’d get to go skiing at least twice,” and it was one of those really real type of dreams, one where, I wasn’t necessarily thinking about it right away when I woke up the next day, but days later, when I started thinking about skiing, when I sat down to write this whole thing up about skiing, and I’m writing about how I didn’t take advantage of the winter, that idiot part of my brain chimed in, “What are you talking about? We went skiing that second time last week,” and only for a moment I was fooled, like for a quarter of a second I thought about how much fun I had upstate that imaginary second time around.

Very uncomfortable (a long complaint to nobody)

I’m so tired. And cold. If it weren’t so cold I’d probably have fallen asleep already, right here at my computer, just head down on the table asleep in this chair. And if it were warmer, maybe if I had an extra sweater, a scarf, definitely something with a hood, and then I fell asleep, it would be one of those sleeps where I’m too exhausted even to shift positions, and that’s probably also compounded by the fact that, in this chair, at this table, I don’t really have any other positions to shift into, my whole body being kind of weirdly balanced, forehead right on the table, torso slumped over. And everybody knows what happens next: two, three hours passed out like this, something’s going to get cut off, no circulation, no blood. Probably my legs, not just part of my legs, the whole thing. Think about it. I’m slumped over, my legs are kind of tucked under the chair, and so the pinch, the spot where the blood’s not going to be able to flow through, it’s right there, like at my pelvis.

And whatever, I’d get up, both of my legs would be asleep, I’d probably get one of those throbbing headaches from my head having been bent down accumulating blood for so long. And dry mouth. Dry nose. I’d stand up and just be really in a lot of pain, a lot of dry uncirculated discomfort. And I’d get up, try to walk around in circles to get everything back to normal, drinking water, maybe take some Advil, eventually go to bed. But then I’d be laying there for the rest of the night, and even though my legs wouldn’t be hurting anymore, it’s always, you know, you get that sort-of throbbing, that kind-of discomfort which, maybe a normal person could successfully fall asleep to, but all I’m thinking of is: deep vein thrombosis. Blood clots. Peripheral artery disease. Scurvy. Just enough paranoid terror to keep my exhausted body and mind in a state of half sleep, thinking about my legs, about the time, about how I should have had eight hours of sleep tonight, nine even, ten. But now it’d just be eight hours of laying down, twisting in bed, trying to keep myself from freaking out.

But I’m not falling asleep right here, right in this chair, even though I am really tired, I haven’t slept much at all this weekend. It’s because it’s so cold in my house. The chill is keeping me just awake enough to write this long whiney complaint. I spent a few days away and turned down the thermostat before I left. Something happened, I don’t know what really, but the heat wound up shutting off completely, so when I walked in the door it was like, Jesus, it’s f’n cold in here, really cold. So I got the furnace going and started cranking everything up. And there’s hot air coming out of the radiators, so it’s on, but two, two and a half days away? The whole house is like a refrigerator. A giant refrigerator that’s all of the sudden being invaded by really dry furnace heat, pumping out through the walls, making that hissing sound. And everything in the house, having been so cold, now getting heated up so fast, it’s all condensing around me, the glasses and plates getting wet, frosted, like when you take a mug out of the freezer. And it’s the same with the tile floor.

And so yeah it’s really cold, but the air is really hot and dry. Does this make any sense? I’ve since put on a sweater. And another sweatshirt on top of that. I’m wearing a hood now. I’m still freezing. And tired. And now the drastic change in temperature is making my skin itch, it’s going to be one of those nights where, even though I’m not worried about deep vein thrombosis, I’m going to be scratching at my dry skin all night, the same restlessness, the same non-sleep.

I think really I’m just overtired. Tired and complaining. Complaining and cold. And itchy.

How about global cooling?

I love it when it’s cold out. Even colder. Snow can get to be a nuisance, yeah, especially if you’re wearing really low cut socks, like even though your boots might be waterproof and snowproof, eventually, if the snow outside gets deep enough, it’s going to find its way in there, in between steps, in the space between your pants and your boots, and you’ll feel it, that cold on the insides of your ankles, that spot where the skin is the softest, the most sensitive. And before you even have a chance to take off your gloves, to try and get the snow out, it already starts to melt against your skin. Now you’ve got wet socks. Now you’ve got wet feet, and the wetness is surrounded by a waterproof shell, so there’s nowhere for it to go.

But having said all of that, I think this problem could be easily fixed with, one, maybe some longer boots. And two, maybe like a real pair of winter socks. I actually bought a pair of really tall boots a few months ago, specifically for this purpose, for heading up North, for getting out there and running around in the snow without worries. There was a pair of Ugg boots on sale for less than a hundred bucks on the Internet. I know exactly what you’re already thinking, but they weren’t regular Uggs. They looked cool. They just happened to be made by the Ugg company. But it didn’t matter. Everybody kept making fun of them, the name, the brand. And I always like to think of myself as this enlightened guy who doesn’t care what people say about him, but that obviously has to be a one hundred percent false self-image that I’m carrying around in my head.

Because I wound up caving in to the derision of everybody else pretty quickly. Those boots sat there for two months without being used. Anybody who ever saw them in the corner of the room made fun of me for owning a pair of Uggs. And then it was Christmastime, that magical time of year when you have to spend tons and tons of cash, and so in a moment of weakness I returned them. Damn you Zappos and your ridiculously lenient return policy. How do ever expect to turn a profit? Letting people take all of the time in the world to sit on a purchase, really chew on it, ruminate all of the ways in which a pair of boots could turn sour, and then actually giving them your blessing, please, please let us give you your money back? I never even had a chance to wear them, not even once, because it hasn’t snowed in New York, not yet, not as of the writing of this, whatever this is.

So now, here I am, we took a little mini vacation up North, to the cold, even colder. At least six inches of snow which, I really just don’t get. In New York it hasn’t been that cold for the second year in a row. But all of the sudden we drive three hours North and there’s snow everywhere. It snows like every day up here. And I’m taking my dog for a walk and he’s loving the snow and I’m running around trying to keep up with his crazy dog energy and not even two minutes later, snow meets ankles, ankles meets wet. I’m inside walking around this very warm house, my whole body is warm except for my feet. Once your feet get cold, there’s only one thing that’s going to get them warm again: an absurdly hot shower. And you have to stand in there for like half an hour. And I don’t know about you, my imaginary reader here, all half-dozen of you friends and family members, but my skin goes nuts after too long of a hot shower. I get out and I’m really dry, really itchy.

Anyway, I really do love the cold. I always watch TV shows and movies set in warm places, I watched Dexter, I watched Magic Mike, and I always walk away thinking, man, I need to move somewhere like that, somewhere where I can wear shorts and tank tops all the time, all year. But then I remembered that I spent most of this summer complaining over and over again, on this blog even, about how hot I was, about how the heat was getting me crazy, about how I couldn’t stop sweating.

I’m up here up North and I feel better than ever. Yeah it’s freezing, way colder than it is in New York, but you get cold and you move. You move and your body warms itself up. I’ll go for a run in the summer and not only do I sweat out every drop of liquid that I started out with, but I feel sick, nauseated, like should I be worried? But I went running yesterday. It was like twenty degrees out. The first mile was tough, really cold. But then after that my body got warm, and then it got hot. And then I didn’t need my gloves anymore. And then I started steaming, like my whole body generating and radiating more heat than I even needed to personally stay warm. I could’ve warmed up somebody else probably. I felt great. The cold air coming into my body felt refreshing. I felt like I was conquering nature. I felt like Superman.

But then I came home and took way too long of a shower and scratched myself raw for the rest of the day. Whatever, I’ll always find something to whine about. But just judging on my levels of whining this summer and my complaining so far about this winter, I’ve got to say, hands down, I definitely love the cold. Even better. Even colder. How about we try out global cooling? Let’s bring on another ice age. I’m ready.

That’s the worst

I’m so cold. It just got out cold this week and I’m not used to it. I can’t get warm. The heat hasn’t kicked in yet. I hate it when you complain to somebody about how cold it is and they just say something like, “Put on a sweater.” That’s the worst. Just listen to me complain. Or join in with me. There’s always more to complain about. It’s like when you’re really hungry and somebody just goes, “Have an apple.” Just shut up dude, maybe I just want something to whine about for a little bit. You eat an apple.

I think there’s going to be a lot of snow this winter. Snow is always fun for the first day or so, but you can only throw snowballs at cars for so long before eventually your gloves get wet and your hands start freezing. And then your socks get wet too. And then you go out to throw snowballs the next day but all the snow is slushy and brown. I hate it when it’s raining or gross out and somebody says, “I just love rainy days.” Bullshit. Nobody loves rainy days. I like to storm around the house on rainy days and try to make everyone feel as miserable as I am. What are you supposed to do all day? Read? Get out of here. I’m going to get in the car and see if I can’t splash any pedestrians with gross puddle water.

The worst is when you forget to move your laundry from the washer to the dryer. And then when you finally remember, it’s too late to rewash everything, but it’s also too late to not do anything, and so you have to run those nasty clothes through the dryer, because you need a shirt and you’re already late for work. And then the rest of the day that smell is just following you around, like feet, like an old wet towel.

That’s another thing I can’t stand, when you’re taking a shower and you go to dry off and you’ve been using the same towel for one day too many, and it’s the same botched laundry smell, and what are you supposed to do, stand there and air dry? It’s freezing out. So you grab the towel and dry off and now you smell disgusting. But it’s over already, the whole shower is ruined, the whole day is ruined. What are my options? Take another shower? My skin’s going to fall off. That’s the worst, when you take too many showers and your skin gets all dry. And maybe I don’t have any clean towels. Or maybe they’re all the way in the dryer, but it’s another load of bad laundry, but I don’t realize it yet because I already smell terrible from the first shower that I took and I think that the smell is just me, but it’s really this second towel, and that’s the worst, like even worse, the absolute worst, because the second shower is too much, my skin’s peeling, and I get out and dry off with what I think is a fresh towel, but it’s just as gross. Why does all of my stuff smell so bad?

Or what’s terrible is when you make a pot of coffee but then you go to the fridge to get the milk but there’s only like half an inch of milk left. I don’t feel like going out to the store. I need coffee just to get out of the house, not the other way around. And so I try to ration. But I always find that whenever there’s just a tiny bit left, it always comes out weird, like some of it doesn’t blend with the coffee, it’s just these little hardened dots of milk, and I try to enjoy the coffee but there’s not enough milk, it’s way too bitter.

Or when I’m trying to watch TV on the Internet and they keep showing me the same commercial over and over again, every commercial break it’s the same lame ad, so lame that they won’t even run it on regular TV, only on the Internet, because they’re thinking, hey, this tool is too cheap to buy cable, so we’re only going to show him ads for cheap garbage that maybe he can afford, and the production value is so cheap, with the worst actors, and they put it on repeat, like they’re thinking this guy is so incredibly cheap, maybe we’ll be lucky if we can trick him into buying just one cheap product, so we’re really going to just inundate this guy with this one ad, until it’s all that he can think about, until he’s not even enjoying his show anymore, every four minutes, commercial time.

Or when your phone vibrates in your pocket and you get excited, maybe it’s an email, maybe it’s of those jobs you applied to, maybe it’s one of your friends with news about some plans this weekend or something fun going on, but you open your phone and it’s a voicemail. Nobody leaves voicemails. And you have to wait for your phone to call the voicemail, and you put the phone to your ear and it’s nothing, but it keeps going, two minutes of nothing. And then you have to listen to the options to delete the message. Why won’t the cell phone company just shut off my voicemail like I asked them to?

And then the wall starts hissing, like way too loud, and you go to check what the noise is but it’s the heat, finally kicking in, but it’s been a whole season since the heat’s been on so you forget, and you touch the pipe and it’s way too hot and you get burned. And then you tell somebody about what happen and they’re all like, “Get some ointment.” Seriously, why don’t you just be quiet and listen for a minute, just let me vent without being such a know-it-all. You get some ointment, you condescending jerk.