It's no secret to those that know me, I am a cold weather person. I was born in Florida, in Fort Myers, very close to the beach. I HATE THE BEACH. I hate hot weather. I hate humidity. I long to live in Alaska, Michigan, Iceland, etc. I could easily move to Alaska and become one of those Alaskan Bush People, or maybe just a hermit in the snow, all piled up with my coffee and books.
This moody Kentucky weather though, nobody likes this crap, nobody. Ten below one day, sunny and 50 the next. That’s called pneumonia weather folks, that is not winter; that is Mother Nature on her monthly. Which thanks to Global Warming, and I capitalize that because it is a real thing and noun-worthy I feel, she has been on her monthly for around 10 years now. Jesus Christ, have a hysterectomy already. I read on a Facebook article this morning (so it must be science and it must be so true), that the ozone layer is healing and Global Warming is "fixing itself". Well thank goodness.
Enough of that. Anyhow, we just wrapped up Christmas and New Years around my house. I put the stupid tree and all the decorations back in the building where they belong. Like a selfish child, I have been a Scrooge since Christmas day, mainly because I didn’t get the one thing I asked for. All I wanted was a cat. One stinking, furry, ugly cat. Christmas morning came around and I looked for a box that was meowing and moving, and I found nothing. So I thought, “Hey maybe they are hiding it, and they are going to surprise me. So, I waited my turn after the children finished destroying every box under the tree; only to be handed a large bag, that was not moving or meowing. Now one could still have hope, that maybe there was a sedated cat in that bag. A lethargic, fat, furry cat, one could still have hope. They handed me the bag, I paused for dramatic effect, then looked slowly down into the bag for the body of a fluffy ball of fur kitten. Alas, there was no cat, and I did not hide my grief. I am still am not hiding it, obviously.
Everyone in my life is sick of hearing about the cat, and I am not giving it up. I wanted a damn cat. I’ll not get over this. I’ll not get over it. I will remain grumpy about this for at least 6 more months. So you will continue to hear about this.
Besides the lack of feline companionship in my house right now, it’s been quiet. We have had some snow days/too cold to go to school days, and the kids have been staying with the grandparents, so that they can spoil them and make them more unbearable to be around. (THAT.WAS.A.JOKE.) Seriously though, this lack of sunshine and vitamin D is doing a number on my emotional stability. Can't go outside and walk around, why not eat? Can’t drive with the windows down, why not eat? I write this while eating a plate full of bacon and french toast sticks.
I watched "You've Got Mail" last night, again. That's my go-to movie. I had an epiphany of sorts last night too. After all these years of re-watching this movie, I realized something crucial about my fictional relationship with Kathleen Kelley and Joe Fox, of Fox Books.
There is a part in the movie where Kathleen Kelley is confronting Joe Fox at a dinner party about taking the all the caviar garnish. She literally just finds out that he is "The Joe Fox" of Fox Books superstore. He sets upon her a burn of such significance, that it leaves her utterly speechless and holding a knife. Girls, we all been there right? Then, thank goodness Frank Navasky comes to save the day with his talk of Julius and Ethel Rosenburg, his Olympia Report deLuxe, and his sweet, subtle burns.
It's only later that we get to see Kathleen get hers (hair flip). She is sitting in the cafe waiting on Mr.NY152. By the way, does anyone else miss AOL chat rooms, because I do. While she waits for NY152, Joe Fox walks in. He has literally just discovered that Shopgirl is actually Kathleen Kelley, and he sets out to lovingly harass her in the cafe, as she does not know it is him yet. This mild, loving jest, turns into the same sort of painful experience for him, that he delivered to her at the previous dinner party. Kathleen delivers a blow to Joe Fox, that sets the stage for the rest of the movie, and essentially helps him with some self-discovery.
She says, "If I really knew you, I know what I would find. Instead of a brain, a cash register, and instead of a heart, a bottom line".
In the words of Tom Hanks, "That was the perfect blend of poetry and meanness."
What was my epiphany, oh yeah. I literally experience this myself, at least once or twice a month. Maybe even yesterday it happened. Someone says something, that maybe isn't meant to be a burn, but is a little bit hurtful, and I just sit there with my mouth agape, staring into the nothingness of my hurt feelings. After five hours of overthinking, six pots of coffee and three self help books, I remember what it was that I wanted to say back. But, it's too late, can't get that moment back.
So, what has the first five days of 2018 gotten you? Eating, reading, binge watching every semi-interesting show, only to realize you have wasted at least an hour of your time; much like you will feel after reading this blog post. Have a sweet one guys.
Kathleen Kelley to Joe Fox in an email: "The odd thing about this form of communication is that you're more likely to talk about nothing than something. But I just want to say that all this nothing has meant more to me than so many somethings."