May-ry Christmas from North Dakota

The high today is 37 degrees. Paybacks are double, MoNa.

thanks be to MoNA <--- enjoy it while it lasts

Melted snow turned the streets a darker shade of concrete today in a heat wave worth celebrating only in North Dakota.

"It's 22 degrees," one co-worker said today.

"Beautiful!"replied another.

And it was.

Today I walked outside wearing only one pair of pants and didn't feel the chill suffocate my skin and dry my epidermis. Twenty-two degrees feels like 60 when you're used to double digits below zero. If the streets weren't so covered in ice, I'd have taken a walk and worked on my tan. But even though I didn't, I smiled and strolled without fury anyway. As in, instead of wearing multiple pairs of gloves and socks and amplifying my amble from outside to inside, I could enjoy the fresh air... breath it in without coughing it out. It's nice not to have to rush from car door to door. In fact, Vinny's temperature gauge raised from 6 to 3 o'clock faster than Canada's Abel LeBlanc raised his middle finger to the legislature up North.

Perhaps it's too early to say this, but Vinny only got stuck once this year, and it wasn't entirely his fault. I was delivering home-building goods to Cowboy on a day in which driving should have been banned like racial slurs from freedom of speech. Luckily, my car was mere feet from two handsome men in Carhart overalls, so a push and pedal to the medal later, Vinny was free and the world was saved from tyranny, depression and dolls with exposed midriffs. Pretty much.

I was scared for winter this year. Scared it could somehow be worst than the last, scared of getting stuck, stranded and frozen so far in the middle of nowhere, no one would find me 'til the snow melted. And I'm pretty sure my mascara would run by then. Hideous.

I'm glad to see that while she put up a fight, MoNa didn't win this year. I did. Not that she isn't a sneaky little sucker, (she dusted Jamestown with 27 inches last March, so she could hit again) but I think she took some sedatives this year. Or maybe some Midol. Or then again, maybe she's just so tired from crudding on the rest of the country, that North Dakota got a little break this year. A torture chamber, sure, but a swift kick beats kneecapping any day.

Dear MoNa,

Thanks for winter. It reminds us to take advantage of the nice days and squeeze in each ray of sunshine. The cold days remind us how futile we humans are, and how, despite our best efforts, we are not resilient. We need the help of warm weather, heated vehicles and most importantly, each other. Lesson learned.

Springing for spring,
Katie

Hauling snow out my window

I've watched five trucks drive by hauling semis worth of snow. I don't know where they're going, but oh how I wish winter removal itself were so easy. Between the trucks and my window however, is the falling debris of more flakes, more ice and more below zero temperatures. 


Punxsutawney Phil may perform his annual duty tomorrow, but a rodent need not inform me what I already know: six more weeks of winter, if not more. 


The days and nights around here grow depressing by the month. It's February. A month for hoodies and hipsters, sure, but not coats that rival in size with wooly mammoths. 


I shouldn't complain. Even Oklahoma got snow days this year. At least North Dakota can hold hands in solidarity with its southern neighbors. Maybe then we could produce enough heat to make global warming come true.


Sometimes winter days can be put to good use: an afternoon stroll to see the birds and the snow-covered trees can relax the mind and even contort it to believe winter is celestial. But not here. It's nice to get fresh air, until you inhale a little too hard and hack a frozen lung. And even with proper snow boots, scarves and ear-muff protection, no North Face can conquer our ice-laden streets. One wrong step and you'll sled yourself to the Emergency Room. 


Cowboy and I walked laps in the local mall yesterday, before it even opened, with the old people in sweatpants and terry cloth headbands. It feels good to get out, stretch, burn calories and begin the afternoon with Burger King for lunch. Winter is no time for vanity, we need those calories to keep warm.


National Weather Service promises highs in the 20s by Thursday, just like it promised a winter with above average temperatures. Based on the El Nino weather pattern, meteorologists said North Dakota would see a milder winter this year, with January temperatures averaging above the area's 17 degree normal. Bogus. Yesterday's high was 4.


I could use a couple days in the 40s, enough warmth to melt some snow and thaw our minds. That, or a vacation in Hawaii. Whichever comes first.  

death be to volvo

Vinny's dead. Again.

And just when I feel like beating my head against the $839 CAT and $430 O2 censor I just bought him (whatever those are) I feel I can't complain. Sure, current temperature here is 26 below, but the rest of the country is freezing too, albeit, in 26 above degree temperatures.

I'm frustrated with this weather and more frustrated feeling like it won't ever end. Snow lingered on cement-bottomed parking lots until JUNE last year, so reason beckons me to fear forever. I could take another week or two of the cold and snow, but if winter plans to stay until summer, then I plan to make like an ostrich and bury my head in sand... or peanut butter balls... whichever arrive sooner.

This year, however, I have three advantages.

1). Others across the country (except for Kevin Cleary who lives and Arizona, wears shorts to class and I hope has a huge ZIT on his nose) are experiencing the same. While the temperatures and snow accumulations differ, it seems winter is extreme for everyone this year. I find camaraderie in our shared struggle. If global warming exists, send it to North Dakota.

2). I've survived before. And even if this year is just as bad or even worse, I have experience and confidence to know I beat winter once, so this is just Round 2. Bring it, MoNa (my abbreviation for MOther NAture).

3). Although I'm related to no one within a 500-mile radius, I have co-workers, friends and neighbors who treat me like family. Need a ride? Need a jump start? They don't seem to mind lending a hand and in fact, they tell me things like we're "happy to help." The town/office/state is so small, I can ask one person for a jump and suddenly four people huddle around my car, attempting to test its battery.

It's a frustrating feeling when you can't transport yourself to the intended destination. Sure, I could walk, but my fingers would gangrene in the process. (26 below... hello) And then how would I write all these blogs about drinking Bailey's for breakfast, dicing deer testicles or imitating Foldger's coffee commercials?

Here's wishing you warm weather and cold drinks,
Katie

No, I was not drunk when I wrote this so you can imagine what it would sound like if I was. PS: this title's pretty long. That must REALLY annoy you.

SO yesterday the meteorologist said: 8-12 inches bitches. Except that he didn't really say "bitches." He just inferred it when he cackled after every news update.

Anyways, the whole town panicked and filled their gas tanks, bought bottled water, dug out mittens and scarves OhWaitThisIsNorthDakotaWeDidThatTwoMonthsAgo.YesAugust, updated their living wills, etc.

And then...

Nothing.

We got like A snowflake and it totally melted on impact.

It did rain a lot though. Like, had I left a bucket outside (which would require foresight and frankly, I don't have any... why would I be here for a THIRD winter if I did?) but had I left a bucket outside, I could have saved myself the 50 cents it costs to take a shower in the morning. I'da just taken the bucket, dumped it on my head and called it good.

There's a lot you can do with 50 cents, so don't knock it.

Aside from the obvious gum balls or handful of Mike N' Ike's circa 1985, you can also use 50 cent to start your rapping career. Pretty soon you have a criminal record, eight gun shot wounds and sing about fat kids loving cake. All that from 50 cents.

So suck one, haters.

But anyways, in some cities, bathing in rain is probably dirtier than no shower at all, but that's only because they have acid and smog and pollution. North Dakotans aren't necessarily any Earth friendlier than other states, but we Northerners just have a lot of fresh air. The only contaminate here is the breeze from our bowels. And methane. But then experts said methane could power the world one day. So that means the rain totally isn't dirty. And therefore clean. AND energy-efficient. We deserve a medal or a clock or something. Upon receiving it, we'd have to freshen up a little, the governor would probably appreciate it, but that's no problem because we'd have our shower buckets at the ready.

But now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure my landlord pays my water bill anyways. So showering costs me nothing. Amazing. All the money I spent on beer PG movies when I could have just played rubber ducks in the shower every Saturday night... landlord really should have mentioned something about that in my contract. I blame the meteorologists. Where were they with the bucket-idea in the first place? Now I'll have to move. But not before shaving my legs.

Uffda! Where's my loofa?

snow and tell

Don't worry. It doesn't look like this anymore. But it did when I left for Denver six days ago. Yikes, was that a scary drive.

Prior to my life in North Dakota, the first snow was always a happy occasion. First snow meant it was time to think about winter break, cardigan sweaters and white lights that twinkled. Children wrote wish lists for Santa and adults baked with gingerbread and cookie cutters. Finally, you could break out Mariah Carey's "All I want for Christmas is you" and people's faces would turn from "the eff, Katie?" to "the hell, Katie?"

Three years ago, four to five inches of snow meant you had school, because crews could plow, push and melt that before the 8 a.m. bell.

Here, its an event of disastrous proportions: like, leave work early or you WILL NOT make it home. FOUR TO FIVE INCHES.

My snow anger melted, however, when I saw the green trees and their snow-covered branches. I don't care how Grinch-y you are, those saplings sure are purdy.

Going through the big D

I'm going through the Big D and don't mean Dallas. That's because I mean Denver.

To get there, I must travel through Jamestown, where a dozen tree branches fell from heavy snow and caused power outages throughout the region; Valley City, where the buses are running two hours late; and Fargo, where streets have actual traffic and I'm not sure I remember how to drive like that, especially in winter.

This vacation is due.

first snow

I'm not looking forward to snow this year. In fact, I still have nightmares about last winter... since it ended in May and all.

But Mother Nature, let's make a deal: If you stick to light dustings through March, I promise I won't complain. And I'll buy you that personalized Budweiser mug you always wanted.