Friday, June 5, 2009

My Condition

I don't know if everyone has the same problem. Maybe not. Maybe I'm just too sensitive. But I am certain that I have a mild case of Seasonal Affective Disorder. Though undiagnosed, I sometimes allow the weather to affect my mood to a ridiculous extent. It's not like every time it's rainy, I'm sad-- or every time it's sunny, I'm happy. Luckily, I do not suffer from that level of psychosis. However, bad weather doesn't help anything in terms of my ability to cope with life. And good weather sometimes does.

I'm a pretty future obsessed person, and something I love to think about is where I will live, as in "settle". I was recently hanging out with my super cool sister-in-law and cousin-in-law, and I posed this question of them. I said, 'if you could make it the perfect situation, like have the right job and the right friends and family around, where would you live if you could live anywhere?' Cuz then asked me, 'could I change the weather?' I said, 'no'. She protested, then sighed, then said, 'I'd still pick the twin cities.'

Though weather is one of the reasons my dream location is my dream location, I can relate to Cuz's dilemma. Weather so simultaneously affects us yet is irrelvant to us. Barring locations that have totally extreme weather patterns, it seems like we would be willing to live places that didn't have perfect weather if we really just liked the character of the state or city. Then again, a LOT of people want to live in San Diego-- you don't hear that very often about Buffalo.

Also, I want to point out that "bad" weather doesn't always translate to a bad mood-- sometimes it has the exact opposite effect. I remember that when I was in elementary school, whenever it was rainy and gloomy out, the flourescent lights seemed to glow differently. For some reason, I loved it and I loved the way my school felt those days. It was oddly comforting. We couldn't go out for recess and we'd sit on the gym floor and watch a video instead (The Princess Bride sticks out in my memory). I may have been in school and everything else about the day was the same as always, but I felt like I was home in front of the TV in my sweatpants somehow.

I'm curious- does anyone else out there know what I'm talking about-- the rainy day interior of school being pleasant? Let me know!

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Weather Girl

It started out, I think, as a byproduct of having curly hair- my obsession with the weather. Humidity signifies ringlets. Drier air means mere wavy tresses, far more manageable.

As early on as I had connected that lower humidity is equal to easier hair days (a/k/a "Ahhhh"), I have been weather attentive. But over time I also learned that lower humidity means general comfort and a greater chance I am going to enjoy being outside, and as GT pointed out, my commute to work would be pleasant, and thus my day, overall, would be pleasant. Fresh, dry, clean, happy. Ahhhh.

I discovered The Weather Channel in recent years- and their local updates "on the 8's." I get dew point tempeatures for my area every 8 minutes! I had been frustrated with major morning news programs, which seemed to not take weather seriously enough (about every 26 minutes, in fact). Twenty-four hours of weather only fed (feeds) my addiction. I don't even mind the terrible, instrumental,soft jazz that accompanies the outdated-looking radar maps on the shoddy green screens behind the D-list anchors (that everyone knows). I don't mind it, the forecast determines the mood of my day. This is important.

When I interviewed for the job I currently have, which happens to be a weather-related television show, I laughed when my current boss asked if I'd enjoy working on such a project. "Are you kidding?? I am obsessed with weather. You don't understand-- I watch weather porn every day," I explained. She laughed. And hired me.

People shake their heads when I try to explain what appears to be a funny quirk of mine. But over the years I've learned something much greater than what started out as pure vanity-- the weather really is a huge deal. Mainstream media tends to ignore it, save for its half-time shoutouts, unless something huge happens, like tornados wiping out entire towns, levees breaking.. At which point it's painfully clear to see how weather affects politics, government and policy; how it illuminates socio-economic conditions. For many parts of this country (ie, in tornado alley or on the gulf) weather is the most important topic of discussion, because weather has and will drastically change their lives- not if, but when.

I feel like I'm getting super boring now. There are fewer mundane topics than the weather, I realize. But I will end on this: weather keeps things interesting. It does everything from angering taxpayers, to claiming lives. It is one of the few things we have absolutely no control over. Weather cannot be tamed nor contaned nor redirected. It is the non-human human drama that propels us into both ordinary stories of mere discomfort, and extraordinary stories of bravery and survival. And sometimes it makes a happy story even happier, when there's sun and a cool breeze on a clear day.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Hazy, Hot, and Humid

For those of you who aren't aware, before L'Enfant hatched his European Avenue inspired plans for Washington, DC, the diamond-shaped district was pretty much a swamp. During most of the year, you wouldn't really know it, walking up and down the wide streets and popping in and out of the large marble Smithsonian Institution structures, or crowd watching in Dupont Circle. You certainly don't notice when holed up in a K-Street office building, and you'd be wise not to think about it at all when barreling through tunnels under the city on a metro train.

But come summer in DC, you cannot escape the swamp. Despite the relatively cool spring, the swamp air rolled in last week with a vengeance, and hung thick in the air all week long like a Memorial Day house guest who had long overstayed his welcome.

As you can probably tell from my the disgusted tone to this entry, GirlTuesday is NOT a fan of the humidity. I like it fine when I'm sitting pool/beach/lake-side and sunning myself. Or when hiking through a rainforest on vacation. . . But that kind of waft-away-from-the-face, thick, moist air should be reserved for those locales only, and NOT a daunting onslaught, day after day, all summer long.

My hatred is not rooted in a dislike of the weather phenomenon, itself. It is due, almost entirely in part, to the fact that I can't stand having to don work clothes and trek in to the office through the thick summer air. From Memorial day to Labor day, I pretty much have to say farewell to leaving my hair down, and dig out as many quasi-work appropriate t-shirts and shells to wear under with my suits. Or, on the more business-casual days, perhaps a twin-set and summery skirt. I have to slow my walk down a bit, and traipse a bit more like a southerner, so as to arrive with a heathy summer glow, as opposed to being downright soaked in sweat by the time I plop down on my desk.

And, in the evenings, the trick to DC summers is being able to time your departure from the office so as to avoid that afternoon's thunderstorms. This past Friday, gleeful at the thought of being able to leave the office at a reasonable 6 o'clock hour, I was tying up lose ends around the office, only to hear a tremendous clap of thunder shake my windows a mere 10 minutes before I'd planned to leave. Having seen enough of these storms roll through, I knew that the wise thing to do would be to linger at my computer just a little while longer and wait. But not this particular day. I couldn't bring myself to stay a second longer. So I ventured out, into the kind of rain that soaked you from all angles; and the water had come down so quickly that there were 2-4 inches of rushing water headed gushing through the gutters and across the streets. But bound and determined to make it to the metro, I jumped from awning to awning and sloshed through countless puddles until I arrived, a soaked, puddle-causing mess and plopped down on my metro seat.

And to think, it's not even summer yet. . .

Monday, June 1, 2009

Fake Sick

I have only ever once called into work “fake sick.” And I use the term work there veeery loosely. It’s not that I’m ethically above calling in, it’s just that when the time comes to actually do it, I can never pull the trigger. I can’t conjure up even the slightest tickle in the back of my throat that would push me over the edge. Yep, I’m sick.

People in my office call in sick all the time. Or at least they must. Because no one can be as sick as some of the people I work with are on Fridays and Mondays (the best days ever to be “sick”, but the worst days to be actually sick because that means you probably weren’t feeling well over the weekend and no one wants that). I wish I had that ability to not feel compelled to get up and come in. Combined with a boss that would seem oblivious. Combined with a lack of caring for one’s profession. Okay, maybe not that last one, I don’t think I’d ever want to not care about my job. If that’s ever the case, I should probably change jobs. Hmm…..Anyway, the one time I called in sick was to go to the SEC basketball tournament (I called into my college internship with food poisoning. It’s your best bet for fake sickness, no one questions, you don’t have to pretend to sneeze or cough, and you can “get over it” in a day/few days).

I really wanted to call in today. Really badly. I was out of town last night and didn’t get back to the house until close to midnight, and knew there was no way I would want to get up this morning. Which I didn’t. But more than anything, and is always the case when I want to call in sick, the weather is PERFECT. Or at least a Southerner’s definition of perfect (which may be a little hot for some of you Northern gals). It was 82 and sunny all weekend, and today is supposed to be just another of the same. We’ve been setting rainfall records around here for the last two months (8+ inches in May) so I am grateful for the sun. We had a few nice days in the middle of March where it was, what the weather people would term “unseasonably warm”, but it’s done nothing but rain since then. A cursory check of the ole internet, turns up 19 out of the last 30 days with rain. Blech. No wonder the dog was starting to smell like mildew. Anyway, that just makes days like today all that much nicer. It’s the third wonderfully perfect day we’ve had a in row. 55 degrees and cool when you wake up. Warming gradually throughout the day, never getting hot, and another cool down after supper. I’d love to be at home in my bathing suit at the pool right now (okay, that would not be at home, exactly) or even in my yard tending to my plant babies.

Either way, I can’t even find a little tickle in the back of my throat. No cramps in sight. And last night’s dinner settled in with my stomach quite well. So I guess I’m not sick. And I’m stuck here all day.