What's he on about now?

In case the articles, essays and opinions throughtout this site just weren't enough for you, here's my online diary (a.k.a. 'blog'). It's as close as you'll come to the inside of my head, so don't say I didn't warn you
(and remember, you can always e-mail me if you love or loathe anything you're about to read)...


   Monday, January 27, 2003

WHO'S EVER FELT UP A WITCH, ANYWAY?

It's minus 22 this morning and, for a Toronto guy, that's about 15 degrees too cold. Everyone I encounter lately seems on the edge, running out of patience with this 'cold snap.' We've spent the last decade or so getting used to increasingly mild winters but now this hits and no one seems able to cope.

The worst part is Winnipeggers. They come to our city and smirk at our shivers. "This isn't cold," they say, "You people are babies!" They drone on about all the hardships of 'the Peg' while we wonder why they don't go straight back there, if they're so tough. I mean, I know Russians who don't yammer on like that and they're...well...Russian.

Oh wait, I was wrong -- here's the worst part: I'm leaving for St. John's Thursday morning. Why have three inches of snow, I thought to myself, when you have three feet? No, I'm going out there to help celebrate my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary. Supposedly a happy time but all I could think was, who gets married in January? As I said to a friend yesterday, I'll be spending five days with my extended family in bone-chilling cold. And, at some point, I'll have to go outside! (Thank you, I'll be here all week. Try the veal.)

I spent a good chunk of my weekend shopping around for long underwear, both for my trip and my current evenings at the pub, where the lobby has been little help of late against the bitterness that comes in through the door. And that's just the customers! (Good night, folks, I just can't stop myself!) Everywhere I go, however, I find spring clothes and a few pieces of thermal gear in sizes XL and XXL. I love the fashion industry -- always looking ahead, rather than giving people what they need in the present. A clerk told me that one really has to buy all their winter clothes by November. "For the winter that lasts into March or April," I said. "Exactly," he replied and shrugged. Oy.

I've a sneaky feeling, however, that I'll be okay once I arrive at the Rock. I'm sure long underwear will still be around. Throw in a gay bar and an Internet cafe and I just might escape this weekend with my sanity intact.

Labels: Trawna