Nips Ahoy!!

Having lived in the mid-West for my entire life, you would assume I am used to the fluctuations in temperature. You would be wrong. With every season change I find renewed vigor in which I can spout off about how hot, cold, humid, or generally shitty the weather is outside. Winter, fall, spring, or summer bring an equal opportunity bitch-fest for me.

I don't like to be cold. The past few mornings there is more frost on the ground than on Linda Evans feathered bangs from an old episode of Dynasty. My crocs crunch into the too-long grass (shhh! don't tell my Nazi, er, I mean neighbor!) as I chase the dog and watch him leave steaming mini turds I am too lazy to pick up. (Hey, when your dog is a mere 9 lbs. you can get away with leaving a few Milk Duds in the lawn.) I shiver and my nose runs but most importantly, my Turbo Nips stick out like Tootsie Roll Midgees. I swear to God I was wearing a bra, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and a sweater the other day and you could STILL see those titty tips poking through my layers. Sort of awkward when the UPS guy knocks on the door. It's like when you see someone who is such a complete freak at the mall and you are simultaneously repulsed yet drawn to look at their misshapen melon, do-it-yourself haircut, and Chiclets in need of braces smile. Sometimes even the good ol' hand rub warm em' up doesn't tame my poking perkies.

I am also equally repulsed by the heat where I live. It get hot, damn hot, here from about May through October. It is accompanied by humidity and often a lack of rain. [Now folks who live in say, Florida, for example, might have a different appreciation of humidity. It's actually wet down there, like everything got sprayed with a big hose. So my friend in Ft. Lauderdale might think I'm a big fat pussy for comlaining about Chicago heat. I'd like to see the state of Florida handle one of our January snowstorms with ease. Now who's the pussy.] I am sweaty, I sweat from every pore in places you probably would not think a human has many sweat glands. Like my earlobes and wrists, for example. When I am pitting out after having one sip of coffee in my air-conditioned frosty dome or if I still see droplets of sweat trickling down my back and temples AFTER I get out of the shower, it's way too fucking hot. When my dog learns how to sign "Give me a damn icee pop, now, bitch!" it is too hot for me. When the leather seat of my car gives me second degree burns on my ass cheeks and it's been parked in my garage, it's way too hot. Get the picture? Let's turn it down just a tad, okay God? Say perhaps 80 degrees or so? This 100 degree crap is a crock of shit.

We do not get to enjoy a springtime in this part of the country either. It goes from frozen snot-cicle cold to rainforest sweat dome in a matter of 2 weeks. The tulips pop up, the cocksucking rabbits eat them within a day (would you like some ranch dressing, dickwad Thumper?!), and then BAM! It's Africa hot. The same applies to fall. It was particularly absent this year. It's November and I have a few trees that just started changing colors. Again, we were wearing shorts and tank tops in OCTOBER. Then we had about a week to prepare for nipple-tronic cold. Fall fashions rock but bronchitis and buying Robitussin do not.

I do not want to move to California, where I know the weather would be ideal. I do enjoy seeing friends and family, I love my kids' school, and my dance teaching job is a sweet deal. I know there's other dance schools, decent education, and more friends to be had somewhere else. I think there a little part of me that enjoys complaining about the weather. (Molly? Complaining? Never!) It's a good ice-breaker for me, who likes to make up reasons to converse with complete asshole strangers just to kill the silence. I'm retarded, I know. So until I am dragged from the icy hole that is mid-West America, I will deal with the cold, hot and little in between. I will wrap my head in 3 scarves and not be able to put my arms down, Randy-style a la' Christmas Story, from wearing so many layers. But you will still be able to distinguish my erect titty toppers so be sure to shout, "Nips ahoy!!" when you see me shoveling snow in my bedazzled down snowsuit.