Monday, December 7, 2009

whiskey tango foxtrot

world leaders may be discussing global warming in copenhagen today, but i'm interested in a different sort of climate change.

as i write this, the weather channel is reporting that it is 25 degrees in portland, though with the wind chill factor, it feel like 12. all i know is that after coming home from work and then taking the train up to fred meyer, my hands and feet are numb and painful. what are these insane winds from the north that bombard portland? i've never felt colder (which is probably a lie). the wind roared all night long, keeping my little treehouse on n. mississippi frigid.

then i biked to work today. what a terrible idea. my thumbs died. i no longer have thumbs: they froze and fell off. tomorrow, the bus, no matter how early i have to wake to catch it.

and on the yellow/green platform east of pioneer square, everyone looked at least slightly uncomfortable. but some portlanders held their own better than others, braving bearing the cold in their smart winter wools, seeming almost relaxed except for their stony faces, turned rocky by the cold wind. i, however, fell into the other camp: grimacing and intermittently cursing aloud the cold. how dare the winter treat me so. i've never but adored scarves and hats and long sleeves and walks in the cold. i biked all through the last winter (except those two weeks of snow endearingly called by the local news arctic blast '08.)

and now: tea and the indoors. a glass of wine. a hot toddy perhaps later at the liberty class. a cold night in bed and a frigid morning waking early to catch the bus for work. i think i rather the rain than this cold.

have i mentioned it hasn't rained in portland for a week or more? i think this is the problem. these clear skies are unnatural. i could see both mt. hood and mt. st. helens today on my commute home.

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