This week, we're having a bit of a cool snap here in LA. Instead of our usual 60-70 Fahrenheit (15-21 Celsius), we're experiencing temperatures in the 50s Fahrenheit (10 Celsius).
On Monday night, I was at the bus stop with about six other people. We all had our hoods on and were doing the stay-warm dance as a nasty cold wind funneled through the bus stop. Some of us even wore knit caps.
I have come to accept that I am a cold weather wimp. I do not like the cold. I would rather be in the warm weather. I am one of those folks who will be more bundled up than everyone else around her. I'm wearing fleece as I type this.
I have lived in cold. I grew up in Cleveland, Ohio. Yes, Cleveland, Ohio (insert joke here). I know about Lake Effect Snow and Negative Windchill. I used to walk one mile to school in the snow. I was tough. I was hearty. I trick-or-treated in cold weather. I celebrated Easter in cold weather. If it wasn't cold, it was balmy hot, and we liked it because we were tough and hearty.
Then I lived in New York City. There was cold. There was grey snow mush. I had a cool black leather jacket. The wind would blow down the avenues, but I was strong. I could brace for it and walk fast at the same time. I was always moving, always going, faster, faster, faster.
Then I showed up in Los Angeles in the winter. I had driven through a blizzard in North Texas to get here. I started to breathe slower and read street parking signs closely. I put on my T-shirt and shorts and gawked at everyone wearing winter coats. I totally started to chill in the warm weather.
Now, many years later, I still chill in the warm weather. I just don't like to be chilled in the cold weather.