Jul 18, 2007 11:32
All my life, I've hated hot weather and loved cold weather. This might go back to when I was a week old, and I'm told my parents drove me home from the hospital during a mid-July heatwave in a car with broken air conditioning. Most people's idea of a "nice day" is not mine. Weather forecasters should not fucking editorialize.
I've also always preferred cold or room temperature food. When I eat leftovers, I don't heat them up. When I was a kid and we ordered in from Chicken Holiday, I loved to eat cold leftover french fries the next day. When I order pizza, I tell them not to bother heating it up in the oven. Whenever I hear a reference to "hot meals", it sounds like a consolation prize. (The word "meals" kinda gets to me, too.)
I also hate sitting on a chair that's warm from someone else sitting on it.
I'll bet that if I thought about it more, I could think of more examples of me not loving warmth.
I wonder what that says about me. It has to say something. I don't know whether it's nature or nurture, but either way, it's not isolated.
Maybe it's just a metaphor come to life, and if I liked warm weather, I'd be a warmer, more caring person.
Even if I did, I'd still hate the beach.