Tag Archives: cold vs. hot

Cold vs. Hot

COLD HOTPart 3 of My Reader’s Suggestions.  This one is about Cold vs. Hot.  And what I prefer.  Well, I like my wine room temperature…oh wait.  I don’t think that’s what she meant.

I know this is a really dumb time for me to bring this up because everyone from Timbuktu to the North Pole are freezing their asses off, but what is best?  Being hot or being cold?

Personally, you know, for me?  I’ve always thought hot.  I have had this conversation with myself before.  For years, I’ve been having this conversation.  And even though it can get pretty damn hot around here in August, I feel like there is some way to cool off.

You can take off your clothes and run through a sprinkler.  Jump in the lake and blow a fan on yourself (well, I wouldn’t recommend doing them together because you can electrocute yourself and probably die).  You can take a cold shower and run an ice cube on your face (this you can do together – you will not probably die).  Sleep on the basement floor and sit under a shady tree drinking soda pop (that’s what I do, don’t you?).

I don't know.  I look kinda miserable cold.  Don't you think?

I don’t know. I look kinda miserable when I’m cold. Don’t you think?

When it’s super cold out?  Well, you can stay inside and hide under a down comforter all winter.  You know, hibernate?  But when it’s super cold outside and you have to actually go outside?  I don’t care if you are an eskimo, there is no trick short of duct taping every inch of whatever to keep the dang cold out.

I can put on three layers of wool socks and my snow boots that promise to keep my feet warm in below freezing temps and my toes will still feel like they are suffering from hypothermia after 10 minutes.  My parka is awesome, but on those freaking bone chilling days, even that doesn’t work.  Forget about gloves.  Those mothers are just useless.

The cold permeates through every window.  Under every door.  When I’m in my car and I lower the temperature a smidge, and I mean a smidge, my car feels like the inside of an ice ball after 3 minutes.  Of course, if you know what the inside of an ice ball feels like.  I happen to know because I LIVE IN ONE!!!

I'm feeling pretty damn hot here.  Phew.  But sure do look happier than when I'm cold.

I’m feeling pretty damn hot here. Phew. But sure do look happier than when I’m cold.

So, I guess I like being hot better.  Five months until August.  Let’s have this conversation then, shall we?  If my memory serves me right, I’m pretty sure I was cursing up the sun and wishing for winter.  I may have even done the Winter Dance.

Oh sorry, my bad.  Don’t worry, I can start doing the Summer Dance.  Oh wait.  Look where that got us.  Never mind.  I’ll just sit here with my room temperature wine, down comforter and cable TV until the sun comes out and melts all the snow.  See you in June.