Hi. It's been a while. We'll talk about that later....
Right now I want to tell you about the POLAR VORTEX. You probably know from the shrill screams of newscasters everywhere that there is one hitting the US right now. It's actually so cold that an escaped prisoner in Kentucky turned himself in to get out of the cold.
Essentially, this is happening because the air that is usually at the North Pole is now here. It's like the North Pole reached it's hand down to feel what it's like in North America. This map will show you. Based on the temperatures on this map, everyone in the US is confused, unprepared, or crying in the fetal position right now.
At the very least, everyone in the US has discussed the weather at some point today. (Found this map HERE.) Related Articles |
Here's how NBC reported it:
NBC wins the headlines by perfectly reflecting Americans' childlike discomfort.
Al Roker said to "Think of this as a polar hurricane," which doesn't really help me know what to think of. The phrase "polar hurricane" just brings to mind excessive winds blowing around perfect, raindrop-shaped ice bits at dangerous speeds, pelting the weather person's umbrella and parka and piling up in a terrible flood of frozen raindrop bits. Or snow. Lots of snow. Violent, angry snow. Signs blowing off of buildings and getting caught in a rapidly freezing water puddle. The candycane striped pole marker from Santa's house becoming a dangerous projectile... Al Roker, I don't know what a "polar hurricane" is like, so please find another, more familiar term to terrify me with.
Here's how the New York Times reports it:
But as a person who lives 30 minutes outside of New York City, this makes me confused and sad because this picture suggests a dense snow. It is sunny outside. I ordered snow with my Polar Vortex. What is this deceptively frigid sunshine shit?
So today I wanted to go to the store for a few things. But we are only using one car right now, and That Man had to go to work. So I bundled up with my heaviest, wooliest winter-wear and asked him to drop me off at a nearby drugstore store so that I would only have to walk one way. He agreed to take me there, but was somewhat skeptical of my walk home. The temperature on the car's dashboard said 3. Three. Three degrees.
I looked about as prepared as I felt. My cute, fitted, wool coat was warm, but not the type of warm you get from one of those big puffy coats that prepared people have. So I made up for what my coat was lacking by wrapping my head in as much yarn as possible. My scarf and hat were both crocheted by my mom and are the type of things one can only appreciate as an adult. Together, they transform my head into a warm, wooly turtle--completely devoid of fashion. My gloves are those knit ones that people wear when it's not that cold outside. They don't match, but they're the same color, so I wear them anyway. I also wore a sweater with a tank top under it, a pair of jeans, and some cozy boots that are thick, but look kind of like foot-sweaters with soles. Where normally one might go with an aloof ensemble that looks carelessly flattering, my look screamed "I CARE. A LOT. ABOUT SURVIVING THIS POLAR VORTEX."
That Man asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this. I said yes because I am a badass.
I took a long time in the store. I knew the walk home would be uncomfortable. I wandered the aisles for a while, but eventually felt like the store employees thought I was going to steal something because no honest person willingly spends that much time in a drugstore. I paid and left.
The first few minutes of the walk home weren't bad. The boxes of cereal I bought because they were on sale didn't make as much sense hanging awkwardly from my fingers. The boxes didn't fit comfortably into the plastic bag, so my hand had to form a wide bridge between the two handle-holes. The tightly pulled plastic was less a handle than it was a clever circulation deterrent.
Those first few minutes are entirely uphill. So the thick hat I was wearing became sweaty and my heavy, wool scarf began to moisten with my breath and feel like I was breathing a wet sheep. I peeked my mouth out to suck in cold air, but the cold was too cold, so my head retreated back into the cocoon of yarn around my neck. Meanwhile, the moisture inside my nostrils actually began to freeze.
I rounded the top of the hill and the street turned into a wind tunnel. Icy air was combating every step I took, and soon, the entire front of me was weirdly numb. I became acutely aware of the position of my socks on my legs because the air could reach inside my boots. I decided that my jeans were not thick enough for this.
I made it back to my house uninjured aside from a bruised and tingly feeling in my hands (which I've had before--it's apparently called frostnip). This proves to me that I would probably lose my fingers if I got lost for any amount of time on a mountain).
| This is what a polar vortex looks like. |
.......
So today I wanted to go to the store for a few things. But we are only using one car right now, and That Man had to go to work. So I bundled up with my heaviest, wooliest winter-wear and asked him to drop me off at a nearby drugstore store so that I would only have to walk one way. He agreed to take me there, but was somewhat skeptical of my walk home. The temperature on the car's dashboard said 3. Three. Three degrees.
I looked about as prepared as I felt. My cute, fitted, wool coat was warm, but not the type of warm you get from one of those big puffy coats that prepared people have. So I made up for what my coat was lacking by wrapping my head in as much yarn as possible. My scarf and hat were both crocheted by my mom and are the type of things one can only appreciate as an adult. Together, they transform my head into a warm, wooly turtle--completely devoid of fashion. My gloves are those knit ones that people wear when it's not that cold outside. They don't match, but they're the same color, so I wear them anyway. I also wore a sweater with a tank top under it, a pair of jeans, and some cozy boots that are thick, but look kind of like foot-sweaters with soles. Where normally one might go with an aloof ensemble that looks carelessly flattering, my look screamed "I CARE. A LOT. ABOUT SURVIVING THIS POLAR VORTEX."
That Man asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this. I said yes because I am a badass.
I took a long time in the store. I knew the walk home would be uncomfortable. I wandered the aisles for a while, but eventually felt like the store employees thought I was going to steal something because no honest person willingly spends that much time in a drugstore. I paid and left.
The first few minutes of the walk home weren't bad. The boxes of cereal I bought because they were on sale didn't make as much sense hanging awkwardly from my fingers. The boxes didn't fit comfortably into the plastic bag, so my hand had to form a wide bridge between the two handle-holes. The tightly pulled plastic was less a handle than it was a clever circulation deterrent.
Those first few minutes are entirely uphill. So the thick hat I was wearing became sweaty and my heavy, wool scarf began to moisten with my breath and feel like I was breathing a wet sheep. I peeked my mouth out to suck in cold air, but the cold was too cold, so my head retreated back into the cocoon of yarn around my neck. Meanwhile, the moisture inside my nostrils actually began to freeze.
I rounded the top of the hill and the street turned into a wind tunnel. Icy air was combating every step I took, and soon, the entire front of me was weirdly numb. I became acutely aware of the position of my socks on my legs because the air could reach inside my boots. I decided that my jeans were not thick enough for this.
Stay Warm.
