Damn you snow!
I love the cold. I really do. I might bitch about it, especially when it comes to starting the car up in the morning. You sit down, all nice and cozy, turn the defroster on...and get blasted by the icy breath emanating from the cold vents of death. It feels like the 9th ring of hell has suddenly transposed itself to upstate NY. I understand, thats what I get for waiting until the last possible minute to leave for work. Now I can't sit in the car and wait for it to defrost because my snot has frozen into little icicles that stab me as I breathe. I must get out and scrape the frozen highway sludge off the windshield.
But I digress...as this tale is not about the car and its icy embrace. No, this is an embrace of a completely different sort. The kind that hurts, leaves marks and scars, the embrace that bruises and leave you feeling a little hollow and empty inside. The embrace of the iced-over driveway.
Having lived in NY the first 18 years of my life, I learned to navigate the frozen tundra of the family driveway without too many problems. Because my mother was a bit neurotic, I always wore very large, thick and heavy snow boots. Big treads. They practically had chains on them, like the snowplow's tires. Do I own boots that are anything like that today? Of course not. Having spent the past 5 years in Louisiana, I got rid of the boots in favor of flip-flops, sunglasses and a stock portfolio of Speed Stick, Secret and Degree. I no longer own the necessary equipment to handle the harsh winter. Considering my rather hasty return to NY this fall, I didn't have the time to pack my one remaining pair of winter boots, which I pray are still sitting in my closet, untouched by mold or shady contractors' hands.
This morning, as is the usual routine, I had to take the 2 dogs out before heading to work. Normally, I take one at a time, because they are crazy and jump all over each other. A large Boxer puppy trying to take down a speeding Italian Greyhound...its not pleasant. However, this morning, it was 8 degrees out. Too damn cold for me to make 2 trips. So I bundle up, scarf, gloves and buttoned up coat. With little brown flats, so cute with my green and brown striped shirt. Adorable shoes really. With these cute little shoes, I make my approach to the walkway.
I don't know what in God's name I was thinking. Why would I put on cute shoes? Did I miss the 7" of snow that's been sitting there since last Thursday? My mom has boots, my sister has boots, I could have borrowed my stepdad's boots. Instead, I take the cute route.
My ass is paying for it this evening.
We make it down the walkway and towards the driveway with no problems. Then I hear the sound of geese or ducks honking. I panic. I'm walking a sight hound. As soon as he sees whatever is making that sound, I am screwed. He's going to start pulling, then the big guy will be chasing, and the next thing I know I'll be trying to hold back 80 lbs of animal that just wants to see what is making that delightful noise. To make matters worse, I see a car coming down the street. The dogs will run right into traffic, because they are dumb as bricks. Shit.
Put the brakes on the expandable leashes, but they keep pulling. Feel my left foot start to slide...no, shit no! This whole side of the driveway is completely iced over, and we are all sliding down one side. Why the hell can't my stepfather shovel? WHY? The big dog slips a bit, yanking the leash in my hand, and I'm trying to hold myself up but its just not working. I am falling backwards and I know what's coming, and that is the shooting pain in your tailbone when you land hard on your butt.
Boom. Now I'm laying on the ice, head back. I struggle to sit up because my huge coat makes it hard for me to move, the dogs aren't moving because I am heavy enough to stop them, and my butt feels sore and cold. Somewhere inside of me, a little girl who was made fun of in elementary school opens her eyes, and I remember that dreaded feeling of "oh my God please, tell me no one saw me fall."
I sit up just in time to see my neighbor's slutty bitch of a daughter drive past our house in her BMW Z3 and laugh at me. She actually had the balls to turn and laugh at me, mouth open, ha-ha-ha-ing.
Now I am sitting here, my ass has a bruise in the shape of Wisconsin and I am pissed. Not so much because I fell, but because that bitch laughed at me.
That's alright though. I knew it was you and not your sister driving because your impressive schnozz is visible from the street.
Yeah, I fell down. I probably would have laughed at myself had it not hurt so bad. I got up and brushed it off. You are still ugly inside and out.
Take care Gonzo.
But I digress...as this tale is not about the car and its icy embrace. No, this is an embrace of a completely different sort. The kind that hurts, leaves marks and scars, the embrace that bruises and leave you feeling a little hollow and empty inside. The embrace of the iced-over driveway.
Having lived in NY the first 18 years of my life, I learned to navigate the frozen tundra of the family driveway without too many problems. Because my mother was a bit neurotic, I always wore very large, thick and heavy snow boots. Big treads. They practically had chains on them, like the snowplow's tires. Do I own boots that are anything like that today? Of course not. Having spent the past 5 years in Louisiana, I got rid of the boots in favor of flip-flops, sunglasses and a stock portfolio of Speed Stick, Secret and Degree. I no longer own the necessary equipment to handle the harsh winter. Considering my rather hasty return to NY this fall, I didn't have the time to pack my one remaining pair of winter boots, which I pray are still sitting in my closet, untouched by mold or shady contractors' hands.
This morning, as is the usual routine, I had to take the 2 dogs out before heading to work. Normally, I take one at a time, because they are crazy and jump all over each other. A large Boxer puppy trying to take down a speeding Italian Greyhound...its not pleasant. However, this morning, it was 8 degrees out. Too damn cold for me to make 2 trips. So I bundle up, scarf, gloves and buttoned up coat. With little brown flats, so cute with my green and brown striped shirt. Adorable shoes really. With these cute little shoes, I make my approach to the walkway.
I don't know what in God's name I was thinking. Why would I put on cute shoes? Did I miss the 7" of snow that's been sitting there since last Thursday? My mom has boots, my sister has boots, I could have borrowed my stepdad's boots. Instead, I take the cute route.
My ass is paying for it this evening.
We make it down the walkway and towards the driveway with no problems. Then I hear the sound of geese or ducks honking. I panic. I'm walking a sight hound. As soon as he sees whatever is making that sound, I am screwed. He's going to start pulling, then the big guy will be chasing, and the next thing I know I'll be trying to hold back 80 lbs of animal that just wants to see what is making that delightful noise. To make matters worse, I see a car coming down the street. The dogs will run right into traffic, because they are dumb as bricks. Shit.
Put the brakes on the expandable leashes, but they keep pulling. Feel my left foot start to slide...no, shit no! This whole side of the driveway is completely iced over, and we are all sliding down one side. Why the hell can't my stepfather shovel? WHY? The big dog slips a bit, yanking the leash in my hand, and I'm trying to hold myself up but its just not working. I am falling backwards and I know what's coming, and that is the shooting pain in your tailbone when you land hard on your butt.
Boom. Now I'm laying on the ice, head back. I struggle to sit up because my huge coat makes it hard for me to move, the dogs aren't moving because I am heavy enough to stop them, and my butt feels sore and cold. Somewhere inside of me, a little girl who was made fun of in elementary school opens her eyes, and I remember that dreaded feeling of "oh my God please, tell me no one saw me fall."
I sit up just in time to see my neighbor's slutty bitch of a daughter drive past our house in her BMW Z3 and laugh at me. She actually had the balls to turn and laugh at me, mouth open, ha-ha-ha-ing.
Now I am sitting here, my ass has a bruise in the shape of Wisconsin and I am pissed. Not so much because I fell, but because that bitch laughed at me.
That's alright though. I knew it was you and not your sister driving because your impressive schnozz is visible from the street.
Yeah, I fell down. I probably would have laughed at myself had it not hurt so bad. I got up and brushed it off. You are still ugly inside and out.
Take care Gonzo.
posted by Venushakti @ 6:42 PM
1 comments
