I do not like winter. And I live in New Jersey, where we have six months of it. Even though we have 12 calendar months and 4 seasons and common core standard math-wise that should mean three months a piece, that is a lie. One big wintery icy lie. Winter lasts forever, like a sadistic Frozen meets Ground Hog Day movie mania.
There are many things that piss me off about winter in NJ and I shall detail some of them here as part of my mental therapy. And because I feel it’s necessary to explain myself like a 30 second public service announcement – yes, I do have SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder). But SAD doesn’t mean just people getting sad, like boo hoo I’m sad. It says I am AFFECTED – which is much more dangerous. It means I am sporting a rage and hate of winter more potent than heroin and I will cut you if you cross me. As long as we are indoors, because if you are outside then I am running to my car or my house and I will ignore you.
Static Electricity: This shit is dangerous and it feels like I am being electrocuted over and over again. Today toast shocked me – not the toaster – the actual bread that is toast inside the toaster. I was nearly electrocuted by carbs. This is part of the Paleo people’s evil plan. I have shocked my children so often that they don’t want to hug me anymore. The puppy thinks I am torturing him or that his invisible fence collar is haywire. I’ve tried wearing rubber soled shoes, I have only hardwood floors, no carpet, and I’m still starting to twitch. Enough already. And yes I have a whole house humidifier, and yes it is set to winter not summer, and yes it is “working”. Screw you. Don’t touch me.
Ice that is not in a mixed drink: If we could just have snow, like New England, that might be nice. But in NJ we don’t have just snow, we also have ice storms. And there is ice everywhere. Like on the tree branches and wires so you lose electricity. And then you are cold in your icy house. And there is ice on your front walk so if the mail carrier does come to deliver your mail you worry he might DIE falling down on your sidewalk and then he will sue you for making him dead. And your driveway is full of ice so anyone who parks there steps out of their car and wipes out on their ass. But somehow we think that the foot of ice on our windshield should be able to be moved by the herculean force that our plastic windshield wipers can exert on the high speed. Man up wipers, move that iceberg. In reality, the only way to get rid of the ice is to either buy ice melt (good luck finding some in the stores by the way) that is also melting the polar ice caps just by touching the air OR to chisel that shit out with a metal shovel. Or an actual pick ax, which should really only be used for murders, not ice picking.
Holy Crap It’s Cold: And I don’t mean, oh it’s cold I need to wear a warmer coat. Screw that. This is cold like I am wearing two coats, a hat, scarf, a balaclava, mittens under my snow proof gloves, snow pants, boots lined with fur from cute little kittens, and I have those little hand and toe warmers lit up like the sun and stuck in the back pockets of my jeans to try and warm my ass. It’s so cold my FACE HURTS. The two inches of skin that are exposed on my face have frozen into a twisted state of confusion and fear. That, my friends, is NJ cold.
What’s that bright thing in the sky? I think I remember it – I think it is called the Holy Shit the Sun is Out. You see, NJ is at a perfect angle on the planet to see the sun in all its glory for summertime. We tan, we frolic in the waves, we bake in the sun. Then for six months we are angled in such a way that the sun, when it does appear and isn’t hidden by months of gray cloud cover, just peeks up above the horizon, winks at us during our work commutes, blinding us as it reflects on the white icy banks of insanity so we fear we might crash our car at any moment, and then heads for cover. The light visors just aren’t the same.
Our skin is just ugly: Do you know what winter in NJ does for your skin? It sucks up all the moisture out of your skin and leaves you with reptile hands. And you shed dead skin like snow on your furniture. NJ leaves you old and shriveled all winter. We look great in summer. Come see us all at the NJ Shore. Or watch us on TV. I hear we have a great reality show that tells you what life is really like – during that summer season anyway.
We listen to lies: We do. We listen to the lies of the weather forecasters every night on the news as they predict the storm of the century every third day. It’s going to be snowing ice daggers and will accumulate five feet per hour with wind gusts of 475 mph. I mean a dusting. A dusting and some ice.
We are FAT. There is not much to do around here all winter. Unless you ski. But then you have to drive to Vermont to go skiing. Or Pennslyvannia. I think NJ has one hill in Mahwah. But the rest of us are in our houses, watching tv, reading books, cruising the internet super highway, and NOT MOVING. And eating all that food we bought when Lonnie Quinn rolled up his sleeves and scared us to death. We bought bread and milk en masse (or, in my town, kale and greek yogurt) and we gassed up our cars from ¾ full to all the way Full. I’m not sure why. We’re not going anywhere. They’re not going to plow the roads for days. Especially since we are also drinking like fish and will be half in the bag all winter.
We are Full of Hate – even for people we love. Not just our family because we are stuck inside with them for six months like The Shining, but friends who travel to exotic and warm places with palm trees and fruit drinks and then they post on Facebook and we see a photo of their toes against a backdrop of sand and blue skies and we wish we had a sling shot that could propel an ice ball through the computer screen to smack their tan feet and face. And we see celebrities living in California and we wonder why do I not live there? And then we remember it’s because California has earthquakes and they will drop off into the Pacific any moment. We will stick with our chilly Atlantic Ocean, thank you very much.
Germs – everywhere. And in NJ we have more people per square inch than anywhere in the US. We pack people in like sardines and then we tell them not to sneeze. Except they do, and the germs fly across the garden state like shotgun pellets and we get the flu, Ebola, bubonic plague, and now apparently measles. We are a germy, disgusting, over-populated place. But we really like it here. Or at least I do. Six months out of the year anyway.
What winter? It wouldn’t all be so bad if we lived in reality. Maybe accepted the fact that winter will, on occasion or constantly, kick our ass. But this is NJ and we do not accept the idea of anyone kicking our ass, especially Mother Freaking Nature. You see, the Southern states see snow and they cancel school. For a week. New England sees snow and they put on their LL Bean uniforms and snowshoe to their neighbors log cabin to check in and have soup before they telecommute. NJ? We see snow, ignore that shit, wear our dress shoes to work and leave the hat at home so we don’t mess up our hair. What winter? We’re good. We’ve got this. We’re from NJ. Nothin’s gonna stop us. Neither snow nor sleet nor ice nor dark of night shall stop us from being cranky ass bitches – this is Jersey.