JimSauce
August 24th, 2010, 05:23 PM
Today, the tides turned in my favor. I woke up at five this morning. Heat and humidity choked the life out of my lungs; the overhead alarm clock blared away a tacky heavy-metal tune, bringing my ears to their knees in weeping; and an array of pungent smells attacked my nostrils (just imagine the possible odors in a typical male teenager’s bedroom). To add to the discomfort, my pillow and bed-sheets were drenched in sweat. This would become routine over the next ten months.
In spite of the grossness of my situation, I took it as a heartening surprise. My wet pillow told me two facts: that I desperately needed a shower, but more importantly, that real Florida weather was finally back! My predicament probably doesn't sound too appetizing. But to me, the sweet stench of sweat mixed with a pair of gym socks that I had forgotten to throw in the laundry meant that temperatures were back in the eighties, and I could finally go for a swim without catching the flu after five strokes.
It’s a welcome change to an uncharacteristically cold first quarter. After a winter of fifty-degree weather (Whaaaaat? Did you say fifty degrees…in South Florida!? Look out guys, it’s global warming!) it’s a heavenly privilege to be able to leave the house in board shorts and sandals and not instantly regret your stubborn disbelief of forecasts below the seventies.
It hit our school commute the hardest. What did the weather have in common with a paparazzi snapping pictures Avril Lavigne with no makeup on? (http://www.topsocialite.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/avril-lavigne-nomakeup.jpg) Both of us were totally caught off guard. A couple of kids even stayed home, following the belief that if your breath is visible, you’d best stay indoors until further notice. (In retrospect, as I sniffled away my stuffy nose in class, I realized they had had the right idea.)
So come December, nature wants to be backwards, yeah. But what makes even less sense than the cold spell are the South Floridians who embrace it. Perfect example: there is a peculiar group of students who burst out of the woodwork by the time December hits. We call them the winter-wearers. They are mind-boggling fashion queens (and kings) who stock up on winter outfits to show off the moment temperatures drop six degrees below the average.
Not familiar with them? Come on, everyone in a humid subtropical climate knows this clique. These unbelievables will don everything from parkas to snow boots—they even wear mittens! I didn’t even know mittens existed in South Florida! Anyway, while they compare their latest outfits apt for a trip across northern Siberia, I sit in the corner of the class and rock back and forth over the madness swirling around me. What’s next, snow? I haven’t mustered the courage to approach one of the eerie winter-wearers, lest I get a heat stroke from just looking at them.
I’m kind of envious, though. Here I am moping next to a cup of stale cocoa and the “Amazingly Realistic Fireplace—complete with programmable flames!” on my TV. (My mom bought the DVD for a buck—whoever possessed her to, I’d like to learn marketing lessons from.) And while I bundle up in my Snuggie trying to come up with a witty Facebook status about how much I hate the weather, down the street my eager-beaver schoolmates are just dying to break into their discount merchandise from Burlington Coat Factory. A part of me, the part that dwells in Greenland instead of Florida, wants to join in on the winter-lovin’ spirit. It’s no Phineas-and-Ferb-“Swinter”, but at least my plummeting body temperature is something different. Something new and exciting. Right?
Wrong. You live in South Florida. What are you doing with a jacket more than an inch thick? Or snow shoes designed for scientists in Antartica, however irresistibly stylish they may be? (I must admit they are pretty darn stylish.) How did you smuggle mittens down here? Why are you in a parka? Why did my mom buy a virtual fireplace? And why am I in a Snuggie? Answering these questions are my lifelong goals—for now, I’ll try to retain my sanity until Spring heat rolls around.
Sorry for the rant. In any case, waking up on a sweat-drenched pillow may seem gross to an outsider and whoever’s doing the laundry that week (if I recall, it’s my brother’s turn), but in my world that means the beginning of a hot and humid paradise. The winter-wearers grumble as they put away their snow jackets and brace for the incoming heat wave. Meanwhile, I have a rendezvous at the beach and ten months of beach-approved weather to enjoy.
Oh, and I also need to snag the latest OP swimwear by June. :yeah:
In spite of the grossness of my situation, I took it as a heartening surprise. My wet pillow told me two facts: that I desperately needed a shower, but more importantly, that real Florida weather was finally back! My predicament probably doesn't sound too appetizing. But to me, the sweet stench of sweat mixed with a pair of gym socks that I had forgotten to throw in the laundry meant that temperatures were back in the eighties, and I could finally go for a swim without catching the flu after five strokes.
It’s a welcome change to an uncharacteristically cold first quarter. After a winter of fifty-degree weather (Whaaaaat? Did you say fifty degrees…in South Florida!? Look out guys, it’s global warming!) it’s a heavenly privilege to be able to leave the house in board shorts and sandals and not instantly regret your stubborn disbelief of forecasts below the seventies.
It hit our school commute the hardest. What did the weather have in common with a paparazzi snapping pictures Avril Lavigne with no makeup on? (http://www.topsocialite.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/avril-lavigne-nomakeup.jpg) Both of us were totally caught off guard. A couple of kids even stayed home, following the belief that if your breath is visible, you’d best stay indoors until further notice. (In retrospect, as I sniffled away my stuffy nose in class, I realized they had had the right idea.)
So come December, nature wants to be backwards, yeah. But what makes even less sense than the cold spell are the South Floridians who embrace it. Perfect example: there is a peculiar group of students who burst out of the woodwork by the time December hits. We call them the winter-wearers. They are mind-boggling fashion queens (and kings) who stock up on winter outfits to show off the moment temperatures drop six degrees below the average.
Not familiar with them? Come on, everyone in a humid subtropical climate knows this clique. These unbelievables will don everything from parkas to snow boots—they even wear mittens! I didn’t even know mittens existed in South Florida! Anyway, while they compare their latest outfits apt for a trip across northern Siberia, I sit in the corner of the class and rock back and forth over the madness swirling around me. What’s next, snow? I haven’t mustered the courage to approach one of the eerie winter-wearers, lest I get a heat stroke from just looking at them.
I’m kind of envious, though. Here I am moping next to a cup of stale cocoa and the “Amazingly Realistic Fireplace—complete with programmable flames!” on my TV. (My mom bought the DVD for a buck—whoever possessed her to, I’d like to learn marketing lessons from.) And while I bundle up in my Snuggie trying to come up with a witty Facebook status about how much I hate the weather, down the street my eager-beaver schoolmates are just dying to break into their discount merchandise from Burlington Coat Factory. A part of me, the part that dwells in Greenland instead of Florida, wants to join in on the winter-lovin’ spirit. It’s no Phineas-and-Ferb-“Swinter”, but at least my plummeting body temperature is something different. Something new and exciting. Right?
Wrong. You live in South Florida. What are you doing with a jacket more than an inch thick? Or snow shoes designed for scientists in Antartica, however irresistibly stylish they may be? (I must admit they are pretty darn stylish.) How did you smuggle mittens down here? Why are you in a parka? Why did my mom buy a virtual fireplace? And why am I in a Snuggie? Answering these questions are my lifelong goals—for now, I’ll try to retain my sanity until Spring heat rolls around.
Sorry for the rant. In any case, waking up on a sweat-drenched pillow may seem gross to an outsider and whoever’s doing the laundry that week (if I recall, it’s my brother’s turn), but in my world that means the beginning of a hot and humid paradise. The winter-wearers grumble as they put away their snow jackets and brace for the incoming heat wave. Meanwhile, I have a rendezvous at the beach and ten months of beach-approved weather to enjoy.
Oh, and I also need to snag the latest OP swimwear by June. :yeah: