Last night, it rained. Hard.
Let me tell about the rain in Texas (rather than the rain in Spain; you’re welcome). When I first moved here a whopping seven months ago–time truly flies–my friends hardly spoke about the heat. The heat didn’t require discussion. I knew that the sun would be vengeful, punishing me for something I’m not sure I did. No, dear reader, I was informed about the rain. Because it doesn’t just rain here. It monsoons. Deluges. Floods. Cats, dogs, and cows fall
from the sky. High winds. Rain descending sideways instead of downwards, which indicates to me that this ain’t a game. Thunder. Lightning. Hail the size of my massive head. When I initially moved here, I once arrived at my former residence and watched, wide-eyed, as the sky turned to a shade of inkwell black. As I scrambled to get out of the car before I was drenched and/or transported to Oz, I realized that perhaps for the first time in my life, I was filled with pure, meteorologically-based fear. (Sure, living in Anywhere, VA had its insane moments. Snow, rain, all of that. But having lived in that area most of life, I was used to it.) And rarely did we receive tornado, get-in-the-bathtub warnings like we do here. As I reached behind me to grab my ineffectual umbrella, I moved with the kind of panic you reserve for dark evenings when someone is walking behind you or when you share an elevator with just another person. (Is it just me? I cannot function when there’s just two of us in an elevator. I simply cannot.) It was terrifying. When I finally made it to the covered porch, a few droplets already falling on head, I turned around right on time as the heavens began to weep. It was incredible.
Oh, and this isn’t the kind of relaxing rain that lulls you to sleep. Rather, I was pulled out of my sleep and driven towards the window, where I peeked through the blinds and watched the sideways storm batter the ground and the cars in the parking lot. A few nights ago, hail accompanied the storm that came.. Ever hear a million rocks thrashing against your window as if they’re mad and not going to take this anymore? This time, however, there was no hail. Just angry water propelled by unremitting winds. When I finally headed back to bed, I lay there, wishing it was over. No such thing. It was determined to screech and ruin the dreams I could no longer remember. (No, Leonard hasn’t returned.) Thankfully, a fitful sleep eventually came over me and I was able to escape the noise. In the morning, the only evidence of the storm were the leaves that decorated the surfaces of my car. If only cars could talk. (“Darling, what was that?” Imagine the scratchy, accented voice of Idris posing that bewildered question, because my car shares his name. This ain’t a game.)
So how do we make amends with this weather fear? One of the many reasons I moved here was to avoid the snow and ice of the Northern VA area, which also came with the kind of cold air that bypassed coats and scarves and headed for pure bone. I’d rather be hot than cold. Hot means I can find a Starbucks and escape the heat outside. Cold means frozen tears just because I can never get warm. And since I’ll be here for the foreseeable future, what do we do?
We find a better umbrella, stay inside, and avoid Oz at all costs.
Does it rain a lot where you are? Do you hide like me or do you laugh in the face of weather-related fears (unlike me)?
Meteorologically speaking, it’s spring. In real time, however, a dreary cloudiness
continues to cast an endless shadow over our atmosphere, bringing with it daily rainfall and cooler-than-average breezes. I won’t comment on the side eye I give anyone that tries to remind me of rain and flowers and things growing. (There goes that positive attitude. Le sigh.) Anyway, as you can imagine, dressing for work/the OK Corral can be an interesting experience. For one thing, my office must have a blood pact with cold air that states that the temperature inside must be freezing yearlong. So even if there was a warm, spring breeze outside, I would have to wear scarves or blazers or down comforters to keep warm during the workday. Secondly, it’s work. Other than having lunch outside or taking a quick walk, I don’t actually get to enjoy the lovely spring weather (when it comes) during the bulk of the day. By the time I leave, the spring temps are winding down.
Today’s forecast, like the 1,000 days before it, is cloudy, rainy, mid-60s. So to avoid having to drape myself in my mother’s Pashmina scarves at my desk, I decided to just dress for both the inside and the outside: I pulled out the turtleneck (which I never really put away, readers, because me and spring have trust issues) and a sweater. Before leaving this morning, my sister gazed at me and asked if it was cold outside. I told her the forecast. Eyeing my outfit, she soon raised her eyebrows and nodded. “I forgot that you’re constantly cold,” she remarked. “Do I look crazy?” I then asked, wondering about my very winter-y ensemble. She insisted that I didn’t look crazy. In the end, though, it doesn’t matter if people think I’m an escapee from some sort of weather-related asylum: as a draft whips itself around me and my desk here at the office, I’m warm.
Here I am:
That sweater with the magnificent, giant buttons was a great find from TJ Maxx. I’ve had it forever. Because of the half sleeves, that’s why I threw on the turtleneck (Ross) underneath. And for extra warmth, of course. With all the gray and black, though, I wanted pops of color. Enter my gold hoops, which always make me happy, and my new purple lippy. The latter was a fantastic part of my recent drugstore beauty haul–in an effort to not spend oodles of cash on makeup, I’ve been visiting drugstores and finding awesome colors without the pearl-clutching high prices. This is Perfect Tone Matte Lip Color in Retro Berry by Black Radiance. Here it is up close.
This ends my style offering for springtime fakery. Here’s to the good weather we will inevitably have, though. One day. At some point. In the near future?
P.S.: That déjà vu you’re feeling? It’s because we just discussed Fabu Fashion and springtime last week. When it was 80 degrees. No further explanation necessary, right?
We haven’t discussed fashion-y stuff in a while, have we? So I wore the following dress earlier in the week to the OK Corral–hence the flashback–and I wanted to share because I love everything about this dress. A few things: pardon the view of le toilette. Such are the risks of bathroom selfies. Secondly, I am wearing nary a stitch of makeup in these photos and I loves it. In case you’re wondering, I simply didn’t feel like putting a thing on my face. Don’t you love being a woman and doing whatever you like? Now, onwards.
This dress. This dress. First of all, by now, you know that I typically forage the racks of Ross for my stuff (I won’t even link back; basically 90% of what I wear is from there) and this dress is no different. I happened to randomly find it one evening and grabbed it immediately, mostly because I loved the designs and textile-y of it and because it was heavy enough for the autumn at the time. I first wore it to a show I went to at the Kennedy Center in Washington DC; it was dressy enough for the event but not overtly so, which was fine for me (although, these days, people sadly put on jeans and sneaks for an event with the National Symphony Orchestra. Le sigh). Anyway, the first time I wore it, it was a bit snug, but c’est la vie. This time, much less snug and way more comfortable. Don’t you love the way it gives me hips that I don’t have?
Oh, and are you wondering why I have boots on in April? I’ll tell you. Winter has hijacked springtime. And none of us can pay the ransom.
Yours in Shivering in April (and Likely May),
Deets (if you care):
Boots: Rack Room Shoes
New Hips: All Mine
Happy First Day of Spring, all.
Be comforted that from today until the beginning of summer, there will either be lovely, light days to delight your eyes in your morning…
…Or several feet of snow in your driveway to assault those poor eyes in the morning. Sorry. Did I burst your bubble? Forgive me. The effects of the weirdest, unrelenting winter of all time–especially in the East Coast–has done this to me. Has me bursting bubbles and such. Let’s get back to the sweet stuff.
Wherever you live, enjoy the days to come.