Welcome Back, Kotter

I was watching an episode of Scrubs last night (via totally legal means) and was intrigued by a main character's choice of title for his blog post: 'Why Being Totally Lonely Can Sometimes Be Super-Awesome.' First I laughed heartily at his pain. Then I realized that I haven't posted anything in well over a month and that the last post was, ahem, regrettable.

Not so regrettable that I am deleting it, but still...regrettable.

Particularly that part about 'Spring' being upon us. That was a lie. A filthy, cruel, self-destructive lie. It has since put me into a 'shame spiral' of weekend snow storms, hail, freezing rain and dipping temperatures.

Spring is not only not upon us, but Winter has, it would seem, pretty emphatically mounted and mastered us. The image is graphic and vile, but, I think, also just barely adequate to describe my feelings on the weather this year.

On the other hand, this has made some sense for me of just why the English constantly discuss the weather. It's because it is far more interesting here than in other places. Take Seattle--it rains until July, then is sunny until September, and then the rain returns. Yes, yes, I know, you say that this year has seen snow and other whatnot but, since I'm not there to witness this bizarre phenomenon, I don't believe a word of it until I can put my feet in the snowdrifts and touch the falling flakes with my hands. To put it more concisely: all Seattlites are liars and should be ashamed of themselves. Or again, take Santa Fe--it's sunny. In the summer we expect some thunder showers and in the winter some snow. But generally it's sunny. Boring. Where's the pizazz? Where's the gusto?

That's where England comes in. Last Saturday it varied between warm and sunny, cold and rainy, snowing without sticking, snowing and sticking, hail, ice shards (which are, I can now assure you with confidence far more painful than hail--especially when being driven into your face by fierce winds while you decide in which direction you should leave the exposed hill atop which you've been eating pears), and sun. Again. Flowers are blooming and they look just lovely under the snow/ice/hail/rain/sun. That was one day. I won't even get into Easter weekend, which was like an extended version of the same.

Tatiana says that's what happens when people celebrate Easter in the middle of Lent. And, dagnabit, she's right. You people have got to start reckoning Ortho style or you're just going to bring more of God's weather-wrath on all of us and, frankly, I'm not suffering for your miscalculations. I'm staying in by the fire and fasting--the way God intended it.

But, long story slightly shorter: the weather here is interesting. It's actually worth a brief conversation and is swiftly replacing baseball, politics, and television as my 'go to' awkward-conversation-starter-topic.

It is, of course, a fitting irony that England truly shines in making the weather of all things an interesting topic. Boring food, boring sports (cricket? give me a break), boring personality, but...exciting weather.

Yeah, that sounds about right.