The Weather Is Out to Get Me

This is my 5th winter in Siberia Bend, weather vortex of the midwest. As accustomed as I've become to the lake effect snow squalls, ice storms, and gale-force winds, nothing prepares me for the frozen breath of air that smacks me in the face when I walk out that door. And on this morning, like all the others since the windchill dropped below zero, I stepped out of our house to face the sharp, piercing cold and the whipping wind, both of whose sole intent, I swear, is to chap my lips, burn my cheeks, turn my monogram jacket into a high voltage static electricity station, and expose me to a degree of embarrassment I've not encountered since high school. Neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow will stop me from getting to school in an efficient manner. On a normal day, I either run or ride my bike to campus, but today, I opted to ride. I know what you're all saying - I heard it from my boyfriend already - "baby, it's cold outside!" Really? I hadn't noticed that icicle on my face. But maybe he's at least a tiny bit correct. I rode one block before the buttons on the side of my pants began sticking to my leg...and two before the change in my pocket fused into one piece of metal that wouldn't work in the pop machine for at least 3 hours (the biggest negative to the ride). As I rode along though, my coat looked electric. Tiny blue and yellow sparks danced from here to there as I weaved in and out of traffic. I didn't quite know what was going on with my coat but it was still nearly dark out... all I really cared about was that Pam was supposed to be bringing in brownies to the office that morning.

While going across Angela, I was greeted by a multitude of car horns... Well wishers? Friends? Hell, did I "run" the light with my Schwinn? Nope. As I learned from the man in the Chrysler Sebring, who chose to brave the elements and share his thoughts on the matter, "IT'S F-CKING SNOWING and YOU'RE ON FIRE." Thanks for the notice, ass. I wasn't on fire. I was electric. The difference is intense. I pressed on and within a minute or so, arrived at the doors to the JACC. As I tried to dismount my bike, it seemed that my butt had become firmly affixed to the seat... not my actual butt - my pants, mind you - but when I got off the bike (kickstand already in place), my pants stayed behind. Sadly, I was wearing those pants with the buttons down each side and suddenly found myself depantsed in 5 degree weather, snow whipping about my legs, as I stood face to face with the coaches that were following behind me. They began to laugh but I suppose that's all one can do. They then proceeded to make jokes about my situation, grabbing the attention of others heading into the building. I had mind to crack on the basketball team but I had no hand. I had no pants. I had been shamed. A nearby good father, on the other hand, took one look at me, diverted his eyes to the air, turned around, and hung his head. Initially, I thought it was a head-hanging of shame... surely he would shake his head at my situation and say a prayer for me. No. I soon realized that the incessant shaking and jittering of his shoulders and head were the result of quieted laughter. Laughter, which, after 30 seconds, exploded into a loud guffaw ... it was the type of laugh that gets God's attention and forces him to open up the clouds, look down on your situation, and encourage all of Heaven to engage in the laugh and point. Thank you, Father... for nothing. Instead of continuing my fall down the shame spiral, I set to the task of fetching my pants (which had since detached from my bike seat and blown into the parking lot). I did so and ran back to the door. My coat had that look of electric fury........... I was riding the lightning. And then I reached the metal door. Something told me not to grab it .. lightning-riding and metal should not be mixed.. but I was moving far too quickly. My hand was 2 inches from the door when a blue line of light seemed to come out of me and on to the door. All I had enough time to say was "whoa!" (Keanu Reeves style) before being blasted into oblivion. I landed on my backside, nearly 3 feet away, the victim of the nastiest occurence of static electricity ever to occur east of the Mississippi. I fetched my pants and bicycle and entered the building through a door being held open by one of the gawkers posing as mature adults...

I will be driving to school tomorrow.