Rain.

I’ve never liked the rain.

Rain makes me sleepy, looks gloomy, and barometric pressure changes from high to low (and never in the reverse direction mind you) consistently provides an open invitation for headaches to rear ugly heads. Rain gets me wet, and I only enjoy being wet if it is my conscious decision to be. Hose down a cat, you’ll see what I mean. If I jump into a pool with my bathing suit on, I want to be wet. When I swim in the ocean and body surf a wave, I want to be wet. When I am dressed, shaved, ironed, tidied up, looking spiffy, feeling good and going to work, I do not want to be wet, be made wet, be made to become wet, wetted and wettened, made soggy, rained on, rained down on, rained down upon, or otherwise splashed, misted on, drizzled on, downpoured on, moistened, or be made to look or resemble someone who has been subjected to any of the above, in any manner, shape, or form heretofore mentioned.

As if rain isn’t bad enough, like a bad medication, it has side effects. One avoids worms with deft skill whilst meandering down sidewalks after the rain. One is forced to re-polish their new leather shoes that were nearly lost forever when you stepped into a hell-deep puddle you didn’t see because you were dodging the hell-mist from a passing dump truck as a tidal wave of mud-bespeckled water came flying toward you and patterned your tan jacket into a polka dotted nightmare.

Lots of quotes refer to rain. Let’s look at a few and see if they praise the rain or reject it. This will be an interesting experiment! Lets begin:

  • “Don’t rain on my parade.” Rain does ruin things. Especially parades.
  • “When it rains is pours.” Depending on the circumstance, this could be good or bad. Probably bad.
  • “I love walking in the rain, ’cause then no one knows I’m crying.” That’s just depressing.
  • “A poet is someone who stands outside in the rain hoping to be struck my lightning.” (James Dickey) Wow! This is really insightful. Benjamin Franklin was such an amazing poet too.
  • “The best thing one can do when it’s raining is to let it rain.” (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow) That’s like saying, “the best thing you can do when you’re eating this cinder block is to eat this cinder block.”

I rule in favor of more rain quotes. Their authors tried to be positive, they really did. But when it comes down to it, I still don’t like the rain.

Childhood memories of remaining trapped in the house while it poured outside will never let me forget those dull, damp, dismal days. My father loved the way the basement windows leaked and filled the entire basement-yes, the entire basement-with inches of water, ruining everything touching the floor. One the weekends when it rained I began to note a bizarre pattern which dictated that we’d be going to visit family in Rhode Island. I began to equate the rain with visiting family in the ocean state, and sitting in the back seat of the car while dad cracked his window to smoke his cigarettes, providing an direct pathway for the rain outside to find its way, unhindered, into the backseat of the car (usually at 45 miles per hour or so) and pelt my sister and I in the face.

But worst of all, and worst of all by far, is the smell of rain. That smell of pure saturated wetness; deep damp earth; musky mustiness; the antithesis of all things cheerful, bright and joyful. It’s downright depressing. I dislike whole-heartedly the stench of rain. I left the living room window open last night; the weather was clear and pleasant. I drifted off to sleep. It rained. My living room smells like rain.

MK
Tuesday, November 7, 2006

Filed under: Observations & Musings

Things I don’t understand

1. Waiters or waitresses who offer to refill your empty mug of tea with hot water but don’t replace the tea bag.

2. How I’m the one who ends up paying the extra cent on split checks.

3. American Girl, American Girl Place, American Girl Boutique and Bistro, American Girl accessories.

4. Why the first person to come up with butter felt the urge to churn cream until it developed into something different entirely and then felt it best to spread it on bread which may or may not have existed yet.

5. Fruit cake.

6. Patiently waiting for a bus that is not on time only to find three or four in a row come at once, or, worse, in the opposite direction.

7. Most Facebook applications.

8. How airplanes actually work.

9. Repeatedly running into the same person at the grocery store you’ve already said good bye to.

10. Apple pie with cheddar cheese.

11. Stores who don’t test to see if their price stickers will come off the product before selling it to you.

12. The appeal of Fluff.

13. [intentionally left blank]

14. Fear of the number 13.

15. In mathematics, the imaginary i.

16. How the imaginary i was “discovered.”

17. Why the imaginary i caught on.

18. How to take the imaginary i seriously.

19. How human civilization survived for millions of years prior to the discovery of the imaginary i.

20. Hannah Montana

21.  How dirty the kitchen gets after cooking one simple meal.

22. The price of groceries to pay for that one simple meal.

23.  Where wind comes from.

Filed under: Observations & Musings

Lint

Lint is under-rated. Like skin, but this entry is about lint. Consider the many ways in which lint is part of us.Lint is fuzzy, soft and often warm, especially fresh from the dryer where it pools with itself in a lush valley of linty-fun for convenient removal. It can stay as long as we let it or leave as soon as we decide it’s time to go. It’s the perfect house guest.

Always attaching itself to us, it’s as if lint couldn’t go on without our company. Whether bunching up with friends or hanging out in solitary company like innumerable stars against a black sky of winter jacket, it’s always there to say hello.

Natural jokers too, lint likes to play hide and seek. An age-old tradition dating back to the lint tribes of the middle ages decreed lint in pockets was the best practical joke around. To this day, the tradition of pocket lint remains both a healthy habit and a joking sense of pride for all the lint out there.

Just today I was talking with a friend and–surprise!–pocket lint! There was hearty laughter all around.

How I love those fuzzy, fluffy fibers! Fortunately for fabric, fluffy lint frolics freely from fashionable furs to fuzzy navels. Who knew these fluffy fuzzy fibers would fetch a title of a far-out drink?

So the next time you’re feeling down, think about all that lovable lint huggin your very being and greet it with happy salutations and a warm smile. It will be your best friend forever.

lint_remover.jpg

Filed under: Observations & Musings