Saturday, January 13, 2007


Very cold here in SoCal. I got up at 4am to see what 30 degrees looked like. It looks dark. And cold. Much like what, say, 47 degrees looks like, only 30 is more of an event. At least here it is.

The weather, when we actually have it, makes front page news. "Possible freezing temperatures! Right after this commercial break!!" "Ways to keep warm! Use blankets!! Details at 11!!!"

When I was born in Poughkeepsie, NY, it was 30 below zero. Three feet of snow on the ground. Even the blanket of snow was shivering. Eskimos have about 30 different words for snow. So do New Yorkers, but most of them can't be printed here.

I was supposed to be born at Christmas. In honor of that untimely timing, my mother was going to name me "Holly", so you can see why I held off making my entrance into this world. By late January, however, my mother had had enough. 10 months pregnant, she decided to induce labor by shovelling snow in the driveway. This would have worked better if she had shovelled the hospital driveway, and if the city had not been a solid chunk of ice.

Despite most roads being impassable, we somehow made it to the hospital, past the elevator and almost to the delivery room. My dad was a bit peeved that he wasn't able to pace the waiting room a few times like dads in the movies. I've been trying to warm up ever since.

It was cold growing up in New York. I remember pipes bursting in our baseboard heating system because they had frozen, and the smell of burnt fur as our dog leaned against the wood stove, trying to keep warm. I learned the hard way not to ever rub your nose (or mine) in the bitter cold. Nose hairs freeze solid, becoming tiny frozen needles that, when rubbed, stab the lining of your nose. The bad part is that you don't always feel the damage until you defrost. The good part is that you don't start bleeding profusely until you defrost.

Hence my move to SoCal, where the weather is now betraying me. I was hoping to develop some hot flashes to counteract the cold snap, but no such luck. Although I have been able to generate a lot of hot air about the good cold days, and that has helped to keep me warm.

The cold-weather stylists here keep me laughing. When the thermostat dips below 50, fashionistas clunk about in bulky Ugg boots and ultra-fluffy jackets over skinny leggings, looking like primeval bigfoot flamingos. You would think that women who buy $250 boots should be able to afford underwear, but apparently not. I guess they don't have to worry about any bizarre sledding accidents, because down below is one place you really don't want to build up a snowdrift.


My name is Heather said...

I've had my UGG's on for a few weeks but no leggings for gawd's sake. You gotta know where to draw the line.

El said...

But it's better here in, right? :)
And regardless of what anyone says (who doesn't live here), 50F is cold.