Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Houston, we have landed on Hoth

Negative 17 with a wind chill of -40. Those are just numbers 'til you step outside.
(Frosted Window by Jeffrey Goodman)

"What does minus eight degrees actually feel like?" a good friend of mine asked me today. I'm assuming the source of his fascination comes from the fact that as he's basking in 74 degrees of perfect Southern California sunshine the concept of Freezing 'Til Your Ass Hurts is just that. A concept.

So I wrote back:

Negative eight is brutal (last night it dropped to -17). But it's the wind chill that's the killer. Makes it feel 30 degrees colder. The wind whips at your face. You have no choice but to put your head down and submit to it. Hands and fingers tingle within seconds which makes even the most rudimentary movements almost impossible. You hurry like hell to de-ice the car and then are forced to sit in your car, freezing your ass off, while the car warms up (last night after work, it was 30 minutes). 

Our heaters are working overtime and my kids are going f*cking nuts (I'm kind of going nuts, too). They are stir crazy and need to go back to school. I need to produce some meaningful work and have a chunk of the day to do it (for instance, I'm trying to work right now but the kids are fighting in the basement for a toy-- ugh).

To sum it up: negative 8 can suck it. ;)

Thanks to this polar vortex, we're experiencing record-breaking sub-zero temperatures here in Cleveland and all the way up the Northeast. Making the best of it means simmering soup on the stove, pouring a third or fourth cup of coffee, piling on the sweaters, and stealing kisses from the kids (no matter how much they drive you nuts).

Stay warm, friends!