Hey cold weather: STFU

I’m freezing. It’s cold outside, I’m wearing layers of clothes, and I’m freezing and I’m pissed off. Let me explain. Lately, (and by lately, of course, I mean the past couple of weeks) I haven’t updated because I’ve been feeling a lack of inspiration. What the hell should I write about? There have been the people I’ve observed at shows, the people who’s hair I’ve cut, the people I’ve seen on reality shows. Something hit me the other day though: I’m fucking pissed off . Oh? You’re asking why? I’ll tell you. It’s January. I’m cold. I wore a dress on New Year’s Eve. I also wore a dress on Christmas Eve. Homegirl got wise and wore pants New Year’s day and Christmas day, though. Tights can only keep you so warm, and I’ve worn my black boots like crazy.
While I had been feeling uninspired I was looking at the most fun new website ever, called Chictopia. It is just a very, very long gallery full of people wearing fantastic outfits and posting them. Well, while looking at this, I see pictures like this. Or this. Or even this. What the hell? Does this website know that while I’m looking at these pictures I’m currently wearing knee socks, pj pants, a tank top, a tshirt, a hoodie, and a Snuggie? Seeing pictures of the amazing sun shining and people in short sleeves is making me sick.
Look, believe it or not, I normally like the wintertime. I do! I was born in December, for cryin’ out loud. Snow is gorgeous to look at, but only if it’s going hand in hand with Christmas lights. I like my birthday, Christmas and New Year’s parties. I also like dresses, sunglasses, and tshirts. Short sleeves and hemlines weren’t designed for girls who live in Michigan. We get those three months out of the 12 month year. This makes (doing the math) nine months of coats, gloves, long sleeves and hats. Nine months! A human grows in that amount of time! That’s so long!
This was brought to my attention last Sunday. Being the girlfriend of an avid toy collector, we have days where we go around town going to various stores looking for these toys. (It’s actually kind of fun. While he browses looking for a variant of someone to make a build-a-figure of someone else who looks like Manbearpig, I get to go around pressing buttons and making “Fur-Real” animals bark at me.) I was digging through my dresser wondering what t-shirt to wear on my day off and it hit me: nobody cares. Know why? Nobody can fucking see it. For all everyone knows, I can have a giant swastika plastered across my chest. You can’t see it under my hoodie and coat. January (and February, and March, and April, and a good chunk of May) always means my big black pea coat, gloves and even sometimes my hat. Always jeans, always boots (oh no, Converse are saved for those days where the sun melts the snow off of the concrete. And forget about those awesome ballet flats that I got that have a FLOWER made out of a ZIPPER. It’s too cold for those.), always sadness.
So I guess my point to writing this was to make a plea to months January, February, March, April, and that good chunk of May Please be kind to us. Remember how amazing June, July, and August were? I understand there needs to be a blizzard of some kind, but let’s leave that behind and kick this whole Global Warming thing into high gear. I’d like to even wear a pair of jeans, hoodie and (gasp!) those super cool ZIPPER FLOWER ballet flats.
Sorry, Al Gore. I’ll take my winter with a side of sunshine and a dash of “unseasonable conditions”. As long as it’s in the name of cute clothes, right?