Posted 4 years, 9 months ago in the late afternoon by oso
Whoever can name the source of that lyrical pun wins my eternal praise.
While I taunt Abo with my daily dose of warm daylight and ultra-violet vitamin A, I must admit that mornings and nights have been torturously cold here in Sunny Diego. I don’t get it. As I type this it’s gotta be at least 75 degrees. Every couple minutes a new freckle keeps popping up with its signature rice-crispies-sound of arrival. And yet I can guarantee you that by 7 o’clock it’ll be barely hovering over 50 degrees and that each of my nipples will resemble Popocatepetl.
These insane conditions have brought about two decisive moments each day. The first, lasting on average two minutes and 46 seconds comes when I can no longer fall back asleep in my warm cocoon of dead goose and have yet to make it into the steaming hot sanctuary of my yellow-tiled shower. Worse than the actual whimpering and skimpering down the hallway as my three inch long nipples point the way, is just the thinking about it. The hesitation. The endless pondering of, now, do I really need to get up and start my day before noon when the sun in all her majestic glory will cover us with womb-like warmth? Will the universe or even my own life be, in any way, altered 20 years down the road based on whether or not I rise from my bed now or just chill here for the next four hours?
No, obviously not. And yet, out of some perverse psycho-sociological guilt, I force myself up and prance like a three-year-old ballerina down the hallway and into the bathroom where I shiver and sorta pogo-stick up and down, holding my elbows all while waiting for that god damned first-story water heater to make it’s unbearably slow kinetic journey upstairs.
And then all is good. Hot water. What an invention. Those who can hear my plumbing must think that I have turned into either a chronic masturbator or an obsessively compulsive clean freak. I assure you, I am far removed from both. I am also weighed down by guilt over my recent hot-water hedonism. I realize this is no good thing as Southern California is both short on the hot (as in energy) and the water. But at 50 degrees at 8 in the morning, I happily say bite me.
The second decisive moment comes late at night. Either at 10:30, after I get home from work or, even worse, around midnight, when I get back from the gym. The task at hand is this: put my night’s reading materials on the shelf above my bed, peel back my sheets and two down comforters, strip down to my boxers, dive into bed, and somehow raise the temperature of my hibernation den above hypothermic conditions. It’s the last step that has been the real challenge. I try everything. Horizontal jumping jacks. Full body exfoliation with my bare hands until my first layer of skin has disintegrated. The fish-out-of-water dance. But no matter what I try, I’m not shaving off any time from my standard two minutes of teeth-rattling trauma.
Now, as you can imagine, two minutes straight of vertical jumping jacks is not conducive to falling asleep. And so I’ve been getting a lot of reading done lately. Luckily though, I’ve also discovered a new fool-proof way to fall asleep each night. It finally struck me that blog posts don’t have to be read on a computer screen. So now, before diving into my goose feathers, I print out a few of HP’s posts and typically I can only get through about one and a half of them and then I’m out cold. I thank you my friend.
Hiyo!
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spend 10 bucks and get a heating pad unless you just want something to bitch about on your blog
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It can’t be that bad. Really. Get ready for BCN.
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If i’m not mistaken that’s from a Papini story called “el reloj parado a las siete”, where it mentions the two swift moments during the day when that clock became once again alive: 7am and 7pm. Here’s the link to the story:
http://usuarios.lycos.es/contenidos/historias/texto.php?ID=36&Titulo=El%20reloj%20parado%20a%20las%20siete
was that it?
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What are your nipples doing in San Diego? Shouldn’t they be in London right now — along with the rest of you?
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LOL. Here I am reading this post while eating lunch, mouth full of Burrito and Pepsi, than I get to the bottom and read the HP comment, I almost spit my food out in surprise/laughter. LOL.
Are you still in SD? I have decided to finally make the move and purchase a bicycle, and join the world of bikers and spandex (although I will certainly not shave my legs), and I need some advice on what bike to purchase. I went to the bike store today, and the guy just overwhelmed me on information, so I would appreciate your advice. I don’t plan to do the 30+ mile bike rides to Irvine, but instead just plan to ride to and from work, about an 11 mile distance each way. You know, do my part for the environment and all, the Republican way.
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Dude, if you are going to talk about your nipples in a post, you need to at least give us some kind of “parental advisory” at the beginning.
My mom bought me a small dish/space heater thingie last year ’cause I kept complaining about how cold my apartment felt. I thought it was colder inside than it was outside. The coolness of the place is great in the summer but sucks when it actually starts getting cold in LA. This year, she bought me an electric blanket. I haven’t used it yet.
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I still try to find it humorous that we consider 50 degrees to be crotch-shrinkingly cold in southern California by remembering that everything is relative and at least I’m not in New York City. But it’s still fucking cold.
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ohhh it is 50 degrees ohhh poor babies. ohh poor cindy had to get a space heater. bite me you mother fuckers. I slipped on ice this morning. It is snowing. I am in fucking OHIO. My people (the Brown ones anyway) weren’t made for this.
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Thank you!! I’m going to smack all of them next week. Actually, I’ll probably be far to content in the 70 degree weather to be angry…but if I could smack them right now I would. Why do you keep saying you’re in Ohio…we know you’re in Iowa.
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whhhhaaat? I can only wish for 50 degree temps over here in Chicago…we are still trying to dig ourselves out of almost a foot of snow!!! I spent an average of 2 hours driving home yesterday in a car with barely functional heat and an average of over an hour shoveling my house last night. NOW THATS SOME COLD SHIT.
Sorry, you get no sympathy from me…try some socks and maybe an electric blanket. You will be fine!!!
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Stupid internet and global reach and what not, can’t we just bitch about our 50F weather in peace without being reminded there’s other places getting 10 feet of snow and shoveling themselves out of things? God I hate the internet!
By the way, I’m with you on trying to heat up the down sandwich, I’m having trouble with that too. I think its the cool cotton exterior, saps the heat right outta me, I’m think I’m going to try a fuzzy blankie lining. I tried beaming my radiant heater at the down comforter but the heat distribution is proving too patchy to be effective. More on this later.
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The internet is a good thing. It keeps me on my powerbook late at nights and the heat of the powerpc chip keeps me nice and toasty. It makes me wonder if the name “laptop” came from MIT during a snowy winter day.
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Beckie and Jen,
I appreciate your loving sympathy and tender compassion.
Medea,
The title was a (lame) reference to the Jarabe de Palo song “Dos Dias en la Vida.” Thank you for the link to the story though, I just saved it and will read it later tonight.
Joel,
My nipples, unlike you my sushi-eating kumpadre, are in fact here in London. They are very excited to be here. I expect a visit from you in San Diego before 1.) I no longer live there and 2.) the next GV summit. Finals shminals.
HP,
I can’t wait to take the bikes out and talk about … anything other than politics.
Cindylu,
Word. My room is absolutely colder than it is outside. Kinda like cars. Have you noticed that? When you get into a car during winter time it’s always colder than being outside. Sorry about the offending vocab. Would “aerioli” be better received?
Bobbo,
My deepest sympathies that your crotch has shrunk.
EM, Abo, Dragonfly,
I anticipated such nonsense. Don’t you over-intelligent people know about the law of diminishing marginal utility? You see, we in San Diego, operate within a temperature range of 70 degrees to 90 degrees. Which is why we are so happy, maybe even go-lucky. You nuttos, on the other hand, have chosen, at your own will, to live in a temperature range that varies from 15 degrees to 115 degrees (not to mention unknown conditions to us left coast folk like humidity and wind chill. So every degree of difference in San Diego has the psychological impact of five of your screwy degrees. Hence, 20 degrees below the minimum of our range would be -85 degrees in your bizarro lands. So, once it gets to be -85 degrees over there, feel free to come aboard and call me a wimp. Until then – and I apologize for repeating myself – bite me.
Rishi,
My long lost, North County friend. I am sure that you have read that leaving your laptop atop your lap can cause infertility. I sure as hell hope so. I figure that between my iBook and my road bike, I won’t have to drop the couple grand on a vasectomy. Anyway, if possible, your photography has gotten even better. But why no RSS feed? Isn’t it just a matter of selecting an option on blogger?
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Hey David,
Glad to be back. I am well aware of the laptop issue and I guess my laptop should really be called “legtop” because I put it on top of my legs – closer to me knees.
I don’t know why I didn’t click the “Yes” box for RSS – but I did now.
Thanks for the kind words – your words are as good as always..
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Oh goodie!
I’ve been looking for a list of Nahuatl loanwords in Tagalog, and of course the all-powerful Wikipedia has it. You’ve got the usual suspects (chocolate, etc.) but also mysteriously influential ones, like “nanay” for mother.
The answer is perhaps in some subterranean 17th-century history in all that silver-for-silk trade, perhaps the native crew on the Acapulco galleons marrying natives in Manila and having early Flipsicans…who knows.
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Just a plain old hot water bottle does wonders to warm up your bed beforehand and you when you crawl in.
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well, i don’t have much sympathy when someone whines about how cold 50 degree weather feels. i will also not complain about the icebox i live in, i was born here and continue to reside here by choice. but just a few tips from my end of the world for survival on cold nights–wear a little more to bed, like pajamas and socks. and if you have to do the almost naked thing–’cause you feel suffocated or can’t sleep with socks on–try flannel sheets, they are never as cold as regular sheets. of course nothing beats having a warm body to curl up next to.
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Oso, your argument was nonsensical. And yes, I will bite you.