>Roofs follow me everywhere. For this I am lucky, because I have an infinite love for them. I thought there was nothing cooler than a house with roof access; I remember excitingly stumbling to my neighbor James’s house once in the middle of the night when I was a kid to go on his roof and watch a meteor shower. I wasn’t just on a roof…I was on top of the world!
Since then, my roof experiences have multiplied. The roof of my hostel in Ghana was a place where our friends would watch the sunset, eat piles of rice, and do illicit drugs (kidding?). My room in my brownstone apartment in Saratoga had roof access as well. It’s where I met a boyfriend, where I watched 4th of July fireworks, and where I tanned naked.
So with great pleasure, I realized this morning that it took me exactly two months and two days to see that I, once again, have roof access from my bedroom. I look out this window every morning; I shut the blinds at night. Still, STILL, for whatever reason..I never angled my eyeballs just slightly down to see that if I popped open the screen, I could walk out on the roof:
Now, I want you to click the picture. Do you see anything out of the ordinary? Look especially hard on the left. Yes..yess….it is SNOW!
I am a sucker for winter. I love it. Autumn beats out winter only slightly as far as favorite seasons go, and only because I appreciate the extra hour or two of sunlight. Still, I have met more than a few people in my time that loathe the winter. And you know what I say to them? LAME SAUCE. Suck it up– the cold weather is one deep, refreshing breath of mouthwash. Twenty degrees gives you an excuse to lay in a fetal position next to a fire, hold a hot beverage of choice at all times, and wear ridiculous furry hats with floppy ears. Topography permitted, you can go skiing. You get to experience the birth of a new year, and lie to yourself (for about a week) that you will fulfill all of these life-changing resolutions. For many, winter means a week off from school or work. Some, even a month. It means holiday dinners, baileys in coffee, and wool socks. Winter rules.
It’s been particularly cold here in DC- colder than NY from what I’ve read. And let me tell you- people “down” here are more southern than mid-atlantic blooded. I can sympathize; the thirty degree temps really feel like the teens with the nasty wind chill we’ve been experiencing. But still…people talk as if we are experiencing a new ice age. I worked a shift at my restaurant the other night and made maaaybe thirty bucks. “People don’t want to leave their homes,” said my GM. Really? It’s so cold that you’d rather STARVE than walk ten feet to your car to drive and get dinner? Humph.
Maybe I have an air of pretension in me, since I repeatedly survived the brisk, Saratoga winters that had us students slaving to class in temperatures below 10 degrees. And maybe I just enjoy saying, “oh c’mon this isn’t bad…I’ve only 30 degrees.” A kind stranger inadvertently shut me up the other night though, as we talked degrees over a glass of wine at a bar by my house. “Even if someone is used to colder temperatures, it’s still fucking cold out, and it’s not comfortable.” She was totally right. I sped walked home. I was cold.