Life's been exhausting lately. Not just for me, but for Lou Ryan and Violet, who (as you may recall from last post) was feeling poopy for a while.
sotired It snowed last weekend. A lot. The biggest, wettest flakes I've ever seen in Washington were coming down like crazy - it was almost as drenching as an Ohio rainstorm! I took this picture last Saturday night, just before I trudged out to a nearby store.
wetsnow See that wet pavement? That's a half-inch of chunky icewater. I splashed through it all the way to the store. Why? Because toilet paper is just that important. And yes, I was soaking wet before I even got there. When I made it home I put my clothes in front of the electric heater (that horrible thing we're not supposed to have here), but Lou Ryan somehow wound up picking them up and burying them under the pile of Future Closet Items on the couch.
The next day, I had things to do and was wondering where my clothes were - which I had assumed had dried out in front of the heater all night. Meanwhile, he was sitting on the couch and just happened to touch one of the pant legs sticking out from under the pile. He exclaimed; "Br! Something is very cold right here!"
Ah, my wet clothes! They didn't get dry at all! That's why they were wet! Indeed; burying soaking wet clothes is not conducive to their drying. Keep that in mind. As if you need to know. Then again, not everyone does: When I was eleven there was this moronic guy who was wrong about all kinds of stuff and didn't believe me when I told him he was wrong unless an adult later backed me up.
One sunny day outdoors, something of his got wet so he put it on the ground to dry, then covered it with a baseball glove. I asked him why and he said, "Covering wet things helps them dry off." He didn't believe me when I told him he was wrong, but luckily an adult said the same thing, so he was forced to believe me. Ah, the people in the world!
Anyway, I was very busy on Sunday and didn't get un-busy until four - which was when the gym closed. So, Lou and I decided to go jogging and kick the soccer ball around some. (On grass, of course, not pavement, because we'd like to keep our knees, thanks!) Unfortunately, it was snowing again. Even harder. And it was very wet, though somehow also so cold it didn't melt when it hit the ground.
Despite the fact that my feet were soaking wet from kicking the ball and from the mounds of snow on the grass, I was pretty warm. Curiously, though, I had to stop jogging when the wind hit my eyes. They stung so sharply that I was getting images of hooks pulling my eyeballs out! Why? I've thought about that and decided that the pain must have been giving me flashbacks of being tortured. (Luckily I still have my eyeballs, as it went.)
It was so traumatic that I felt like screaming in horror, but I didn't show it because I thought just how retarded the whole thing was. Screaming about nonexistent hooks in my eyeballs? Come on! I'm not about to give into that crap! Nevertheless, there were giant flakes coming down so thickly they were hard to see through, sticking to my face, and now there was wind blowing on them! I was practically blinded!
In this way, the scenery was able to sneak over and beat me up - there I was, tripping on unexpected dips, slipping on slushy grass, and running into things. I was also having trouble breathing all the mucus and icewater that had accumulated in my respiratory tract, which tends to induce tons of coughing and nose-blowing.
I couldn't stay out there any longer, I reasoned, because my very damp and stinging eyes would surely get frostbitten if I kept trying to open them in the icy wind. I tried calling out to Lou, but he was so far ahead he didn't hear my bubbling, inundated voice. My eyes really hurt!
On the way, I found that jogging on the sidewalk with your eyes closed is not a good idea. First, you'll whack your elbow against someone's mailbox and then slam yourself into the side of a parked car so hard that you spin around, fall down and crack your head against a decorative boulder. Trust me. I've tried it.
Why not walk instead of run? Because; a) I was desperate to get back inside as soon as possible and; b) walking doesn't keep me warm when I'm drenched and not wearing a coat, and I was drenched and not wearing a coat! Luckily, streets - and businesses and public institutions - are deserted whenever it snows in western Washington because the locals don't know how to deal with it.
So, I wound up jogging in the middle of the street where there wasn't anything to hit or any uneven ground to trip me up. It was so wet that each step made a huge splash, and squinting my now cold-numbed eyes away from the air rushing past me I saw that I'd left an ice filled wake behind me on the road. No matter - both pairs of pants I was wearing were already soaked all the way through.
Finally, I showed up at the apartment house. Even though I didn't have the keys, it sure was better than being outside! By the time I had cleared all the slush off my body and was regaining the feeling in my eyeballs by pressing my hot hands against them - yes, they were hot despite my not wearing gloves - Lou returned.
He was kind of pissed that I'd just disappeared and didn't tell him. (I would have if I'd had my cell phone with me, but I left it in my coat which as you'll recall I wasn't wearing.) I was really sorry. Still, as my eyes stopped aching from the cold, we were both so tired we slept from five in the afternoon to nine at night.
Sunday also happened to be First Day of Spring Quarter's Eve, and I had to get up early in the morning lest I disgrace myself and miss something important on my first day of anthropology class.
gasleakaverted Hooray! And I got to clean up the mess I couldn't reach back there before! Nas-teeee!
violetexploring ...take the Leashcats Exploring!
letsgosomewhereelse Violet was so happy not to be cooped up anymore - and finally she could climb to a decent height!
afterthebarkingcrow Vada, on the other hand, has gotten progressively less and less thrilled with these little outdoor trips, even though she meows at the door. She actually runs from the leash now - just as she runs from anyone trying to pet her.