Let’s talk winter.
On the plus side I can listen to Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” on repeat without being harshly judged (June was a tough month for me). I have an excuse to wear bulky sweaters, which requires no need for a prison cell (bra). Not to mention dark chocolate peppermint ice cream at Coldstone… another reason for those bulky sweaters. And of course, my favorite holiday flicks: Holiday in Handcuffs and Die Hard.
And quite frankly, this:
On the other hand, winter plain sucks. Sure I’ve lived in Utah since birth, but my love for the cold, blistery, snow-infested days has yet to develop. I can appreciate the beauty of a snowy morning from the confines of my snuggie, but when I’m required to gear up and face Suzy Snowflake head on, a very different version of myself comes out, referred to as “Winter Sam”. If you’ve ever seen Rambo, you have a decent understanding of how “Winter Sam” approaches the dangers of walking and driving on the enemy ice. So far the record is Sam-3 Ice-0, but we're just getting started folks. I fear this season will end in a sudden death match....much like this:
For those of you attending a college, university, or pretentious, over-priced prep school, you know that with winter comes finals week. I’ll admit I used to be a hater: Instagramming photos of myself looking haggard after hours of studying in the library, Tweeting phrases like “I ______hate finals week. I don’t give a _____about graduating anymore! Why the ______did I sign up for this??” (Note: all _____were filled appropriately with the words “SUPER”, “bout of diarrhea”, and “Danny de Vito”). It wasn’t until yesterday that the reality of finals week hit me. My courageous ancestors walked across America with no shoes, living off of, what I can only imagine being called, Buffalo Enchilada Surprise. All that is required of me during finals week is to read some textbooks by a warm fire’s glow, sharpen some #2 pencils that I bought with my credit card, and answer questions regarding Sexually-Transmitted Infections causing painful urination in males. I, for one, am going to strive to have a less whiny attitude towards these five days.
Disclaimer: Males, if experiencing painful urination, seek medical attention, and stop being skeezy.
So Reader, although I was once referred to as a “Snowflake” by a tall, attractive, black Utah State basketball player, my identification with winter is bleak. But I'll grin and bear it if you will. I wish you all a happy holiday, safe travels, and health (should you endeavor in eating those bins of multi-flavored popcorn).
-The ever-jolly and tinselly Swampman