Cheers & Jeers: Fall Edition
So, the lovely Kristin over at Going Country got me thinking about the turn of the seasons (a.k.a. HOLY FUCK IT’S COLD IN MY HOUSE), and I decided to throw a little Cheers & Jeers action at you this fine motherfucking morning.
First, I have to explain how incredibly different this particular transition into fall has been for me. I’m usually one of those people who views the onset of cooler weather with the same giddiness as a person awaiting a 6am colonoscopy.
It’s always too early to get a camera up the pooper.
But this year, I absolutely could not wait for the change in seasons. I’m guessing it was a pregnancy-related quirk, since one of the stranger side effects of my first trimester morning sickness was not being able to STAND going outside in hot weather, something I usually love. I don’t really know why – maybe it was because the air is so much more, uh, fragrant in warm weather? And every time I tried to take a walk on my lunch hour, I could barely make it a block from my office without gagging at the sheer amount of smells in the world? Whatever the reason, I have been rejoicing in every cool morning and falling leaf; the arrival of the pumpkin spice latte at Starbucks has sent me into rapturous joy (even though coffee still triggers a gag or two). Smack my ass and pass the pumpkin pie, fall is here and I couldn’t be happier about it.
- Breaking out the sweatshirts and the blankets. Brad is currently rolling his eyes at this one, because my cold ass is swaddled in blankets all year round, but there’s something much more satisfying about wrapping oneself in fleece because of the fall chill in the air rather than because the entire universe likes the A/C cranked to 55 degrees from May to September. Also, our ancient house is incredibly hard to heat in cold weather (and the price of heating it is generally fucking obscene), so a cozy blanket, thermal clothing and fuzzy socks become an essential – if entirely unsexy – part of one’s wardrobe.
There’s a reason our child was not conceived in the winter.
- The mass extinction of all those disgusting centipedes in our basement.
I think this one speaks for itself, don’t you?
- Halloween! Thanksgiving! Christmas! For me, the order in which those three holidays occur is directly proportionate to my love for them. Halloween is OK (most of its charm being the discounted bags of miniature candy bars on Nov. 1), Thanksgiving is awesome (stuffing? gravy? PIE?! NOM NOM NOM), and Christmas is the culmination (the perfect marriage of discounted candy AND stuffing/gravy/pie AND presents! WOOO!). My birthday also falls on December 22, so I like to pretend that all the pageantry surrounding that time of year is for me. Sorry, Jesus. Sorry, Hanukkah Harry.
Back when Jon Lovitz was still getting work…a Christmas miracle!
- Are you ready for some football?!? Yes. Yes I am. Brad and I are big Steelers fans, and football season in our house is not taken lightly. Brad has a Steelers tattoo on his upper arm, an entire room of our house that is filled with Steelers gear (and soon to be painted Steelers gold), and some pre-, post-, and mid-game rituals that are pretty much the only thing he does not have ANY sense of humor about. If you break or challenge these rituals? Do not expect to be invited back to watch a game at our house anytime soon.
Me? I have lucky underwear that I MUST wear for the game (I once forgot to wear them and HOO BOY, was my marriage lucky the Steelers won anyway). They have polka dots and are about as sexy as a pair of Depends.
- Have I mentioned my body’s inability to keep itself warm? I have? Well, that doesn’t mean I can’t repeat myself. Internet, I AM ALWAYS COLD. I never go anywhere without a sweater, goosebumps are my skin’s natural state, and the surface temperature of my hands hovers right around absolute zero. And while I am totally jazzed about the recent shift in seasons, that doesn’t change the fact that I want to cry out in actual, physical pain whenever I have to pump gas/get the mail/wait for the bus/crawl into a car colder than the time Zack Morris lied to get out of going on a date with Chubby Wendy.
That was COLD, yo.
- It’s electric! Oh Lord, the STATIC ELECTRICITY. How it plagues me from October to May! How it crackles and pricks every time I remove my coat or sweater! How it nearly knocks me unconscious each time to touch the car door! How my poor cat’s nose must be void of all nerve endings because of the enormous shock she receives when she goes to rub her little furry face on my fully-charged hand!
MAI REVENGE. U HAS IT.
- Zombie hands. It’s cold and flu season. You take your vitamins, you get your rest, you wash your hands like fucking Howard Hughes. And how do your hands repay you for trying to keep them clean and virus-free? They crack and shrivel and bleed and make those who are brave enough to shake your hand wonder if you are the re-animated corpse of Queen Hatshepsut.
COCOA BUTTEEERRRR…uh, I mean BRAAAAAAAIIIIINS…
- It’s hermit weather! Feeling stir crazy? Got a little cabin fever? Want to get out of the house and do something? No you don’t. Because leaving the house ain’t as carefree as it was back in July when you could grab the car keys and sunglasses and be out the door. No, leaving the house in cold weather means jackets. And scarves. And gloves. And boots. Now, where’s the car? Oh, that’s right. It’s buried under 2 feet of crusty snow. Better dig it out and let it warm up for 10 minutes before attempting to navigate the treacherous, black-ice covered roads. Bon Voyage! Hope that trip to the movies was worth careening your car into a telephone pole!
It’s funny ’cause it’s schadenfreude.
So, Internet, share with me some of your personal cheers & jeers about the onset of fall. Do you love it? Do you hate it? Are you too busy burying your face in a bag of Halloween candy to bother with replying?
I recently discovered that Butterfingers are my Kryptonite. I won’t judge.
Entry filed under: And you KNOW THIS!.