Now that the holidays are over, it is business as usual at Chez Bix (I always imagine that this is pronounced with a heavy Frahnch assent, like Shay Beaks) with one exception: I am fully engaged and working in my very own office. Esteban told Mopie that I was nesting, to which I replied ‘Oh fuck you’, but he’s right: I’m totally nesting in it. I feel like I’m eight and we just moved again and I finally don’t have to share a room with my little sister. I want to lay on a twin bed, rest my head upon a unicorn pillow and listen to the soundtrack to Xanadu while looking at the album and tapping my foot in midair. It’s a wonderful thing. Of course, this means that there are things to buy, feeding my need to have things JUST SO. I have to find a rug, some frames, a desk organizer thingy, and some black storage boxes. It’s a ready made To Do list and oh my goodness, what a way to combat the suck of January. Because you already know: I hate January.
That having been said, it’s been a very mild winter so far. When Mopie moved to Wisconsin, my friends and I regaled her with tales of subzero temperatures, explained windchill and the dangers of black ice with glee in our voices, unable to contain our wintery schadenfreude. We looked forward to the bone-chilling cold, the way that it hurts to breathe. We wanted her to return to California with tales of how the snot in her nostrils froze and when she’d inhale, everything would stick together. We wanted to envision the looks of horror on the faces of her LA friends, the assertion that truly only strong and noble people came from Wisconsin and then perhaps some confusion about where Garrison Keillior had set Lake Woebegon and also dissertation on the movie Fargo. And then, when she and I were discussing the Minicon, she wondered if we were evil for scheduling it in February, and I replied, ‘If we have to be here in February, so do they.’ And then we laughed. And there may have been a high five.
However, it’s been sort of a blah winter so far. There are only a few old maid clumps of snow here and there, mostly grey plow heaps in the corners of parking lots. We haven’t had sun in 18 straight days, so the cloud cover is keeping everything gloomy but pretty moderate. True, it’s anywhere between 20 and 30 degrees most of the time, but it’s a warm 20 degrees, if that makes any sense. Many days, I’ve been getting by with either a hoodie and a scarf or my unlined leather jacket. Maybe I’ve been living in Wisconsin too long, that this seems so anticlimactic. Not to mention, anti-climatic.
So now I’m fretting about the snow and the Minicon. I feel like I’m telling everyone to train for a decathlon and then when they get here, asking them to take a nice, comfortable jog around the block. Of course, I fretted like this last year too, and then the day before the event, we got a nice fluffy set dressing of snow and made everyone fall in love with everyone. I shouldn’t worry so much.
(Scene: An impromptu ‘No Meh Race but Let’s Have Quorn and Wine’ evening)
Mo : Those commercials always remind me to do a kegel.
Weetabix : I’m sure that makes Ian very happy.
Mo : You just did one too, didn’t you?
Weetabix : (laughing in admission)
Mo : See? You can’t hear the word without doing it. Kegel. Kegel. It’s impossible to resist.
Both : (continue watching television)
Mo : (sotto voce) Kegel.
Weetabix : My vagina is not your yoyo!
