I was all set to bitch about how St. Louis’s total snowfall for winter 2011-12 is going to end up being something stupid like 5″, but then I cruised by The Spohrs Are Multiplying and Heather mentioned that it was 88* in LA last week and suddenly I just can’t complain about a ‘mere’ 5″ annual snowfall.
I may not survive a whole year in California, y’all. For real. I may not.
Last week one of my coworkers was like, “Kate, I will laugh so hard if you get out to LA and you start to get tan and dye your hair blonde and start driving everywhere and stuff. I wouldn’t be surprised.”
And I just looked at him, the long, silent dead-eyed stare of ‘oh surely you do not really think that. I mean, do you even know me?’
As you, my true friends and compatriots, all know, I will indeed not spend my time in LA getting a boob job and Tweeting about celebrity sightings in Starbucks. I may, in fact, gleefully string a year-long paper chain around our apartment there, counting down the days until we get to go somewhere with proper seasons.
I can’t wait.
I mean, I can’t even process the thought of enduring nearly ninety-degree weather in the middle of winter. What do you do with that? Seriously? Do you run the a/c year round? When do you wear boots and sweaters? How can you appreciate the beauty of the seasons and enjoy watching them change if they never change?
I just don’t get it. And I don’t especially want to get it, but I’m about to get it so I guess I’ll just shut up and get it.
That is to say, yay for year-round growing seasons and ambitious plans to can all the things!
(And in the meantime – anybody have some fun suggestions of more ways an introverted Midwesterner can fill a year in LA?)