Goooood Moooorrrniiinnnggg Vietnaaaammm!!
Oh wait, we're in Canada. If this was Vietnam, I wouldn't be waiting for my legs to thaw out.
LIGHTBULB! (Please refer to Gru, from Illumination Studios' Despicable Me)
I apologize for my long-time absence from the world wide web's infinite space of possibilities, my fellow net-Seekers! I have, of late, been immersed in many activities ranging from academia to sleepedemia. Life is SO busy for me, and you should all feel sorry for me instead of scrutinizing me for not entertaining you with my words.
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*cough*
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I'm kidding. Really, I'm not that pretentious. What I AM, however, is a Popsicle. Why, you ask? Because I live in Canada. Because this morning, in negative thirty-seven temperature, I ventured my way to my place of employment. Because I work on the other side of the universe. Because I forgot to wear long-johns (but then my pants wouldn't fit properly, and I'd be left adjusting myself in places where women should never adjust themselves). I know, I know... the weather is an extremely cliché topic, and everyone talks about how it shouldn't be used for conversation, yadda yadda yadda. But I say different!
In Ottawa, the weather is perhaps the most discussed, as well as traffic, "those Senators", and Beaver Tails. Oh, and the Rideau Canal. Oh! And OC Transpo. All of these things have one common characteristic: When the weather changes, their circumstances deteriorate in most cases (buses, traffic, time management, breathing, sanity, etc.), and ameliorate in some (nothing better than a Beaver Tail in -27 weather, and the Rideau Canal becomes a skating rink!).
Yes, friends, today I have experienced (not for the first time, of course), the tingling sensations of winter weather. The chilling breeze that rattles you to the core, the goosebumps at your hair follicles where you never even thought you had hair, frost on your eyelashes, frozen hair due to wetness, and my absolute favourite: icicles on the inside of your nose, creating a marvelous crystalline web between the tiny little hairs within each nostril. Oh, yes. How charming, to have nasal mucous frozen solid. I am not one to complain about cold weather. Indeed, many of my companions and chums-in-armes believe me to be clinically insane for my infatuation with Canadian winters. But, as any sane person may have deduced from previous posts, heat and I do not get along very well. At ALL. The thought of panting in the summertime much like a Terrier in heat is not exactly what I would call ideal. It quite literally makes me sick. But I digress.
As I continue to make sure my extremities haven't yet succumbed to a failure to circulate blood, I leave you with some sound advice: cover your hands with some mittens or gloves, shelter your noggin with some tender wool and care, and call Hermione Granger to conjure some portable blue flames for you (always works for me).
The rest, as they say, is up to the forces external.
But if you're smart enough, a stalactite doesn't hurt nearly as much when in falls on a head being cuddled by soft toques or fluffy hoods than on a bare skull.**
** Credits to hoot for pointing the error out. But of course, if this is the first time you're looking at this, you'll never know.
