It’s a White (Hot American) Christmas
It’s mid-December and it feels like mid-September, and east coasters are freaked out. You’re not the only one who checked the weather before your latest tacky Christmas sweater party, and thought you might want to wear something underneath that Snoopy Santa jumper—maybe something like a bathing suit?
This weekend I decided that this year’s warm winter days are sort of like diamonds from someone you’re really not interested in. You’re feeling pretty guilty for accepting them, but also thinking something like, well… they’re already bought and paid for… so global warming, if you insist…
By Monday morning I’d come to terms with my guilty appreciation of the weather’s holiday gifts. Imagine my dismay, then, when the morning news informs me that the weather is not, in fact, a direct manifestation of global warming. Instead, it’s some kind of phenomenon involving El Nino and a frigid meanie called the Arctic Oscillation that’s basically a bubble of air with a split personality who is probably coming back in January to freeze us all into ice sculptures.
The moral of the story here is that you should definitely enjoy the diamonds of our winter days guilt-free; they will probably turn out to be cubic zirconia, but that’s just not your fault.
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