Monday, December 13, 2004

Why I Hate Snow

It started snowing this weekend, like for real snow that sticks, not the scattered flurries we'd had so far this year. I woke up on Saturday and looked out and there it was, staring back at me with frosty gloom.

I hate snow. It's been out to get me since I was born. Seriously. I was born in January of 1978, and if you're older than me, you may remember that winter also being referred to as the Blizzard of '78. So here's me, little baby Amber, cooing and being all cute (except for my big floppy dumbo ears), and along comes Mother Nature and drops about 3 feet of the white shit all over my parents' house and snows them in. And of course being new parents and not realizing that they should be prepared for Armageddon at all times, they run out of formula. And suddenly I'm not so cute anymore because I am starving. Lucky for starving baby Amber, my parents are pretty intelligent people, so they called the police. The police drove to the store, bought me some baby formula, beat a path to my parents door and I was saved. Incidentally, they also refused to accept any money from my parents for the formula, which was nice. But that was only the beginning.

Flash forward. A little girls sits in the living room. Her blonde hair is pulled up in pigtails, showing off her cute smile and dumbo ears. Streamers and balloons are hung gaily throughout the room. A cake shaped like a pair of ballet slippers is on display in the dining room. The little girl looks out the window at...nothing, because she can't see through the friggin white out. The party was supposed to start half an hour ago, and no one is there yet. The phone rings. Mom answers it and speaks for a while. No sooner does she hang up then the phone rings again. And again. Eventually, my mom comes into the room. "Sweetie, that storm outside is really bad, and, uh, well honey, no one is coming." So snow has fucked me again.

When I got out of college, I was at one of the lowest points in my life. I had just broken off an engagement (later to become a theme of mine), and I didn't have a job. I was pretty depressed. One day my parents went out somewhere, and I thought I'd try to do something nice for them by shoveling the driveway while they were gone. So I put on about 6 pairs of pants, my coat, my gloves and a big hat to cover my dumbo ears and went outside to be a good daughter. Oh, did I mention how fat I got in college? I was a tub of lard from my daily regimen of sitting on my ass and eating pizza. Ask Heather, she was there. Can you guess what happened next? That's right. I shoveled about 6 square feet of driveway and collapsed from exhaustion. And in my fragile mental state, I cracked. I sat down right in the middle of the driveway, sobbing, because I was SO PATHETIC I couldn't even SHOVEL THE FUCKING DRIVEWAY. Who was ever going to hire me? Or marry me? I was doomed, destined to live with my parents for the rest of my life, at least until they died, when hopefully I could find a nice cardboard box to live in so I wouldn't have to sleep out in the fucking snow.

So today, Mary and I went to Suzy's for some yummy tomato tortellini soup. As soon as we hit the doors we were nearly knocked over from the blast of horizontally traveling snow that was whipped at us. "HOLY FUCK!" I shrieked. "IT'S GOING RIGHT IN MY MOUTH!" Mary was laughing too hard to tell me that I could stop that by shutting my stupid mouth. We continued on, getting pelted by freezing white schrapnel. "AAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH! MOTHER FUCKER!" I was screaming at the top of my lungs.

"Amber, shut up, people are looking at us!"

"I DON'T CARE! SON OF A BITCH! THIS SUUUUCCKS!" A guy walking in the other direction started chuckling, sympathetically I'm sure. "I HATE THIS! AAAAAAGGGGHHHH!" A woman turned around and gave me a dirty look. I covered up my dumbo ears with my hands in an attempt to prevent them from flying right off. "AAAAGGGGHHHH! FUUUUCK!"

"Amber," Mary pointed out, "it's the first time it's really snowed. It's going to get worse before it gets better. You'd better get used to it."

She's right. Man, I hate snow.

6 comments:

Pronto said...

So now who's begging for a pity party, Amber-hun???

amberance said...

My whole life is a pity-party sweetie. Haven't you noticed?

Anonymous said...

You live in Cleveland and you want to move to Chicago. So all I can say to you is let it snow, let it snow, let it snow, or move to Florida.

amberance said...

Right. I'm aware of the irony. My Chicago based bartender called me from Vegas last night at about 3 am to tell me that it's 70 degrees there and he's wearing shorts. Bastard...

H said...

I feel your pain. I'm in Pittsburgh right now for work. Snow can kiss my white ass.

Also, my rental car (Ford Focus) can take a two foot snowdrift. Awesome.

amberance said...

I have GOT to raod test some rental cars with you...Are you going to see Becca before you come home?