scene

Feb. 12th, 2007 03:49 pm
The snow is still falling lazily outside. A woman on the street level is standing outside a car, cuddling a black kitten with white facial markings while the tow truck guy uses his jump kit to start her battery. The two of them converse while the cat struggles against her chest. I think I want to curl up with someone behind me, wrapped around me. I miss having someone to share a bed with.

Some kid lost the key to his bike chain and had to call Capital Lock, Inc. to cut it for him. It's too bad. It was an expensive chain. He stares at the severed ends for a moment, shaking his head, before removing his gloves to retrieve his wallet from a back pocket. He gets his change back and tips the locksmith two dollars. His hands burn with the cold; he thinks about how he can't afford another lock. He hates himself a little for losing his key. He thinks it might be a metaphor for something. He thinks it might just be Monday.

In an hour or so, I have a meeting, followed by a few hours of homework, some paper-writing, perhaps some hot chocolate and peppermint schnapps, if I'm done with the homework in time. Hot chocolate sans the peppermint schnapps, otherwise. Either way, comfort in a cup.
If anyone is curious as to how cold it is here in Madison, Wisconsin, here's a clue:

VERY

However, that means I made the cover story of the Daily Cardinal, one of the student newspapers, by being in the right place at the right time and by fucking freezing. That picture of the person who is completely covered except for her eyes? Yes. That's me. *waves*

(Incidentally, that's the hat I just finished knitting, and it kept my ears nice and toasty.)
Apartment! It is currently -4 outside, and the weather report is screaming about dangerous wind chill and staying indoors and wearing appropriate skin coverage.

Why, then, am I sitting next to an open window in a t-shirt and jeans, sweating?

Grumble.
Or, you know, closer to ten. Because dude, only in Alaska. Is it any wonder I've always had a secret love for the place?

On a somewhat related note, it's been snowing on and off for the last few days, which has made Carmen a Happy Person. I always forget how essential the winter is to my well-being, how important the cycles of the seasons are. In Sicily, it froze maybe one or two nights a year. The single flurry (first one since '89! no, there was the one in '91, remember, and that inch of snow in eighty...what was it?) caused a reaction of bemusement more than anything, and I had to explain autumn, because it...didn't exist. It threw me off. The years left lava rock and hot winds, half-moons of sweat in your armpits and sunburns across the tops of your ears, but no other landmarks.

God, I missed the winter.

Maybe that's why I write about it so much. It's just, right now, watching the snow blow in gusts beneath the streetlamp, driven up and sideways as much as falling, I'm good. I believe that I am good, and that the world is good. And even though I know the world's sure as hell not good and that I am many things like courteous and conscientious but the word good is not one I'd use to describe myself, I still believe it.
It's so incredibly beautiful outside right now. I always forget how much I love Wisconsin in the winter.

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A tree at the end of Henry St., just before it dead-ends into Lake Mendota.

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