It’s –16° F. with wind chill here, and we’ve had this hellishly cold weather off and on for over a week. Yesterday during my 20-minute walk home from the train, the entire end of my nose went numb in a scary way that it’s never done before, and I grew up in Chicago, so I know from fucking cold. Thoughts of frostbite and Tycho Brahe-style silver noses were running through my head, and then I thought, "Hey, that wouldn’t be so bad; maybe I could get a silver nose in a more distinguished shape than my boring own nose, and MAYBE THE SILVER TYCHO BRAHE NOSE WOULDN’T FREAKING RUN EVERY GODDAMN MINUTE THAT I HAVE TO SPEND OUTSIDE!”
I swear, if the weather continues like this I’m making myself a pair of nostril corks out of dental cotton rolls because I can’t. Stand. The constant RUNNING! I know there are places in the world where it’s much colder than here, but there’s nobody on this planet whose nose is running more than mine is because it’s not even theoretically possible for a nose to run more often than “always.” I hate every single thing about winter, but this business of life as an incessant snot factory has to be the very worst.
I was reading some article about a terrible blizzard in Montana where it got so cold that the cattle were frozen in place, their heads linked to the ground by icy columns of snot and maybe drool. I’m expecting something like that to happen to me any day now: Frozen Corpse Found Encased In Glistening Ice Sculpture of Own Nasal Mucus Only Steps From Commuter Rail Stop.
I walk around snuffling and snorting like some kind of disgusting wild boar rooting in the forest, but annoyingly enough, (WARNING: TMI!) the snot is so thin and watery that I can’t get any snorting traction on it, so it just keeps running. Incessantly.
Yeah, I could just walk down the street with a Kleenex permanently clapped to my nose, but it’s awkward to walk that way, and holding my arm up like that allows the bitter wind to find the gap between my oven-mitt-sized polar fleece mitten and my cuff and then go howling on up my sleeve to freeze the very marrow in my bones. Plus it looks stupid.
Stupider than nostril corks? No, probably not, but nostril corks are no stupider-looking – and maybe less stupid-looking – than the incredibly dorky ganked-from-my-husband fur-lined aviator hat with MOTHERFUCKING EARFLAPS that I’m already wearing because I have no pride at all when it’s this fricking cold.
Plus nostril corks would solve the whole Kleenex disposal issue. As it is now, I’ve been forced to select the left pocket of my coat as the Designated Snot Pocket where dead Kleenices go to die. Then I have to remember at all times not to put anything else – like my wallet, my keys, my left glove, or, God forbid, my bare left hand – into the D.S.P., and that’s a real pain in the ass. Plus gross, and I’m tired of washing my hands all the time what with their constant exposure to snot; they’re already desiccated enough just from the cold.
So in conclusion, Nostril Corks = Convenient, Sanitary, Reduces Paper Waste and Snot Pocket Litter!
Next up for a pitting, the second-worst thing about winter: That feeling when your sock falls down inside your boot, sliding forward and clumping up around your forefoot like a big fat caterpillar with the heel bulge all wedged underneath the arch of your foot in a way that’s so incandescently annoying that it makes you want to do violence!