Hello June

Summer is sweet, winter's a beast.

Over the summer, people said to me, "You'll get toasty," "You'll be translucent," but I didn't believe them. They couldn't possibly know what would happen to me. In truth, I couldn't possibly imagine myself changing in the ways I have. Or feeling the way I do. My white skin practically blinds cameras and I am definitely feeling toasty around the edges.

There is something about winter. Something that can't be helped by any amount of vitamin D, exercise, hydration, hot water or hot cocoa. As I travel deeper into the dark and cold belly of this winter beast, I find that no matter how much sleep I get, I am still tired. No matter how many positive affirmations I recite in my head, I'm a bit prickly on the outside...more sensitive on the inside. I am constantly being reminded of my limits. Limits which seem to be collapsing inward. This is nature's way of telling me that I just don't belong here.

Human.survival.in.these.conditions.is.not.natural.

It's rather comforting to note, however, that this isn't only happening to me. There is a reason the term "winterover syndrome" exists and it's because it can be applied to the greater majority of my beloved winterover population.

The Winterover Stare.

The inability to comprehend or respond to simple questions.

Cedar hides...

and hoards.

Persnickety at its best.

Notice how Joe's eyes close automatically
to avoid the brightness of the flash.

Scott nestles deeper into the comforts of his hat...

hoping to disappear and be forgotten until Winfly.

Cynthia is still smiles,
probably because she works in the greenhouse
where it is warm and green and bright.

Cindy too isn't yet showing the signs,
though I'd bet she is only moments away from
spraying someone with the dish hose.
May was rough. And a little hairy. But June seems to be shaping up quite nicely. Especially since I received this AMAZING music mixed CD from Keri N e l s o n.

This is it...

the music CD that saved my life.
So fear not, my far-away friends. Because "I am going to make it through this year if it kills me" (A song by The Mountain Goats - click to listen). And when I get back to life elsewhere, I'll forever be able to say, "That's nothin', I wintered in Antarctica."