I have become very cold.
Okay, so on Friday I was in a humid, pretty cold place. I had to wear my boots and coat, toque optional but recommended. My friends from home all warned me it was a frozen wasteland, but home is a helluva lot drier than my school. So I figured it'd feel about the same, eh? After all, our motto is basically, "But it's a dry cold," and humidity makes every temperature feel worse. So yeah, I was expecting boots and coat, toque optional.
Nope. None of that. It is a freezing tundra of dry, epic coldness. At this moment, it "Feels like: -36 C," and the Weather Network does not lie. My toes are still cold from walking to my friend's car about, oh, an hour ago. Because her car took about, oh, half an hour to warm up (though since it was her dad's Mercedes, it was totally worth it, I have a lust on for heated seats). I've been wearing long johns all day. Man. Long johns. Somehow, it's so much more embarrassing than when I was walking around with two pairs of sweats on earlier this week. And month. Used to be I only wore long johns for snowboarding and Girl Guides camping trips, but nope. Now that I'm forty years old inside, I apparently feel the need to dress like it, too. Next week the patterned sweaters are coming out, and oh, they will be unironic.
On the plus side, I am home-home-home! I have spent many long hours complaining about this place (cumulatively, that is. I think that if I spent hours talking about it at once, that would be a very bad sign), but I was kind of ridiculously homesick the last couple weeks at school that actually being here is like being hugged. Well, hugged by the icy, numbing arms of Father Winter, and trying valiantly to escape frostbite every time I have to so much as look at the outdoors. But still, a hug is a hug, eh?
Also: I'm sitting in the living room with my mum on her own Mac on the other couch, and my dad in the kitchen making salad, and an actual, honest-to-God fire in our fireplace, and I am feeling good. One of the Christmas things I was excited about was burning shit, and look! A mere day after my arrival, and shit is burning. Excellent. My papers are done, my exams are over, and my Christmas shopping is taken care of. A couple of my friends were over for baking cookies and talking, and I don't think I've felt this good for a really long time.
Yum, home. I forgive you your tragic frigidness.
Nope. None of that. It is a freezing tundra of dry, epic coldness. At this moment, it "Feels like: -36 C," and the Weather Network does not lie. My toes are still cold from walking to my friend's car about, oh, an hour ago. Because her car took about, oh, half an hour to warm up (though since it was her dad's Mercedes, it was totally worth it, I have a lust on for heated seats). I've been wearing long johns all day. Man. Long johns. Somehow, it's so much more embarrassing than when I was walking around with two pairs of sweats on earlier this week. And month. Used to be I only wore long johns for snowboarding and Girl Guides camping trips, but nope. Now that I'm forty years old inside, I apparently feel the need to dress like it, too. Next week the patterned sweaters are coming out, and oh, they will be unironic.
On the plus side, I am home-home-home! I have spent many long hours complaining about this place (cumulatively, that is. I think that if I spent hours talking about it at once, that would be a very bad sign), but I was kind of ridiculously homesick the last couple weeks at school that actually being here is like being hugged. Well, hugged by the icy, numbing arms of Father Winter, and trying valiantly to escape frostbite every time I have to so much as look at the outdoors. But still, a hug is a hug, eh?
Also: I'm sitting in the living room with my mum on her own Mac on the other couch, and my dad in the kitchen making salad, and an actual, honest-to-God fire in our fireplace, and I am feeling good. One of the Christmas things I was excited about was burning shit, and look! A mere day after my arrival, and shit is burning. Excellent. My papers are done, my exams are over, and my Christmas shopping is taken care of. A couple of my friends were over for baking cookies and talking, and I don't think I've felt this good for a really long time.
Yum, home. I forgive you your tragic frigidness.