Baby, It’s F#@%in’ Cold Outside

I cannot cannot cannot cannot cannot cannot cannot cannot cannot take this cold anymore!!!!!!!!!!!  And it’s barely December.

Here, in my lovely corner of Colorado, the temperature has dropped to -9 F (it‘s 5:30 a.m.), and yesterday’s high was 27 F.  In all honesty, I cannot leave my house if the temp is below freezing (32 F).  Literally, I am a prisoner in my own home.  If it weren’t for my parents and a couple of good friends yesterday, I’d be cussin’ worse than a sailor today.  My dad went to the grocery store for me (not only was I still out of food, but to top it off, I was out of coffee!!), my mom brought over the pans, spices, mortar and pestle, and everything else I’ll need to start on the baking of the Swedish Christmas goodies (yes, I am the Swedish Chef in my fam), and some friends brought over a pack of cigs for me (don‘t judge).  This is why I can’t leave CO!!!!  Grrrrr … anyway …  

I call it ‘getting gut punched by the skank’ because, ultimately, that’s how it feels to me every time I open my front door during cold spells like this.  Keep in mind, this is not me being out in the cold, it is merely from opening my door … First, the gut punch <BOOM!!> right to my core, knocking the wind out of me ... (yeah, fer real).  Then comes the first rush of cold air and my body starts to shake and quake and convulse … other than that, my voluntary muscles become paralyzed.  Next come the ugly, cold-induced goosebumps … those evil, evil, evil, flare causing, mind blowing (and not in a good way) goosebumps.  My arms and legs are the first to pop.  (This is the infected razor burn feeling … it sucks!!)  Once I can regain control of my muscles I have to force myself to move so that I can close the door and back away.  At this point my infected razor burn-y skin has to rub against my clothes in order for me to move.  (hey!! YOU try moving without your clothes touching your body … it’s impossible!!  … unless you’re naked, but it’s toooooooo cold to be boppin’ around doin’ the full monty … PERIOD.)  Then comes the flare itself.  That “dump-a-can-of-gasoline-over-my-skin-and-strike-a-match-x20,” kind of feeling that causes me to crumble into a lump of poop.  Granted, I live by the code of “layers” but the physical weight of the layers can take their toll on my skin as well.

~~ Side note: I am 5’11”, 125 pounds … and I have been this way for the majority of the last 20 years.  But there is always some damn fool that has to make the comment about my needing to put some weight on to insulate my body.  (“Really??  I have never ever ever thought of doing that.  As a matter of fact, I don’t think that anyone has ever even suggested that to me before either.  I’ll tell ya what, as soon as I stop puking from the pain, I’ll eat non-stop for the rest of the day.  You’re a friggin genius!!!” … ya buttmunch)

Ok, back to business … Inside my house, I usually keep the thermostat set at 72 F (it‘s my happy place),  but the last couple of days, I’ve had to up the temp to between 76-78 F.  My gas and electric bills are gonna be from hell next month.  This is bullshit!!   (sorry Mom)

So … how in the sam-hill-heck am I supposed to keep the faith when it’s cold enough to freeze off vital female body parts, I'm in a hella ton of pain, and I’m almost completely cut-off from civilization???????????

I’ll try to start it with a nice compilation of Christmas music and Jimmy Buffet tunes and stalk my friends on FB.  Hopefully I can start talking myself into moving into the shower soon and then I’ll get out Grandma’s baking “guidelines” and let the smells remind me what it was like to hang out in the kitchen with that incredible woman.  (I say “guidelines” because she taught me how to cook/bake by the seat of my pants.  No recipe required!! … and that drives the rest of my recipe following family members up a wall … HAHAHAHAHA!! … tee hee)

 … this is me, keeping the faith … and trying to stay warm at the same time!!