why, wind, why?

it's been 3 years since my last visit to the united states. it was about the same time of year, when the leaves were beginning to change color and the house facades were sprinkled with fake witches and scoopy goats.

i remember many things about that last trip. i remember that Coke (capitalized for clarity) tasted better, i remember having to consider sales tax when shopping, i remember having to speak with an accent so people didn't have to ask me to repeat myself three times, i remember loving outlets and marshalls and nordstrom rack (sue me), i remember the nonexistence of small food and drink portions.

i do not, however, remember being cold.

i mean, yeah, i recall having to layer clothes and i know it was a lot colder than home ... but i don't really REMEMBER how cold it was. much like how you forget the pain of childbirth (so they say) or the sting of a steroid injection for a nose pimple.

and now i am again familiar with the cold. and how.

every time i step out, i get slapped by the invisible vengeful ice creature from ice hell and i often hear myself shout, "what is THAT??? why???" it replies by giving me another frigid slap. wind is a miserable son of a ... wind-mother.

i guess it's nice to have thin fingers aesthetics-wise but when i walk outdoors, i always wish for an extra layer of fat around them, just so i don't feel like my hands are about to fall off. the other night, i had to carry an iced drink (again, why?) from the store to the car and, as my fingernails started to turn a fashionable shade of blue, i had to ponder my IQ. i didn't get very far pondering because my neurons were in the final stages of cryopreservation.

to think it's only fall. every day i have to hear my sister say, "that's nothing. wait til winter."

thankfully, i will be back home by then, halfway around the world from this windy nightmare. take that, you miserable invisible vengeful ice creature from ice hell.