See, I miss the cold weather. Here in the swamps of Louisiana, it was so warm and humid today (but grey and rainy nevertheless) that I had to close up my house and turn my air conditioning on, since I was sitting here under my ceiling fan bathed in sweat. Which is just WRONG in November. My birthday is Nov. 6th, and the entire time I was growing up there was always, always at least snow flurries by my birthday. It’s impossible to get in a proper holiday mood with it being warm and sticky. Heck, if I can walk around outside barefoot a few days before Thanksgiving and not have cold toes, it’s just WRONG.
I’m weird. I like winter. Well, except for the no light part.
I love November. My favorite days are cold and overcast, with precipitation somewhere between mist and drizzle. It’s the ideal weather to go out for a nice walk. Summer is always too hot, even up here in the Northeast (75 degrees is about my upper limit–I don’t know how I survived North Carolina for 6 years). Spring tends to be too rainy, though the temperature is nice. Winter is iffy; I love the snow, but it does have its fair share of hassles.
But yeah, November rocks. Thanksgiving is the second-best holiday ever (the first being Halloween, which, when done right, lasts well into November anyway).
I was just in California! Saw a rather hefty woman in a mini-skirt near muscle beach. She had a tattoo of the devil on one knee; and the Chicago fire on the other knee. When she crossed her legs, she looked like hell.
