First and foremost, I have to apologize profusely for not posting in such a long time. I started my new job almost three weeks ago, and I’ve hit the ground running, which I actually love. The downside to it is that I haven’t been able to muster up the energy to spend more time in front of the computer when I get home. It’s not a great excuse, I know. But I hope the few readers that remain will forgive me, and I’ll make more of an effort in the future – I promise.
Over the past few weeks I’ve frequently been asked by the folks back home what autumn is like in New England. The sad reality is that I can’t tell you anything about it…because it hasn’t happened yet. I can’t begin to tell you how sad this makes me, because I’ve been carrying around this picture-perfect image of fall in New Haven for months now. I pictured myself walking under a shower of crimson and golden leaves, handing out candy to little ghosts and goblins on a crisp Halloween night, and fulfilling all my Martha Stewart fantasies by pulling a fresh-baked pie from the oven, stuffed with the apples I picked myself from the orchards of Connecticut (Alice Waters would be so proud). And while I have gone apple picking in Connecticut, I did it on a mild, sunny, 73 degree day – not the sort of day I would ever complain about, but it certainly didn’t fit my image of crisp New England weather.
And so it seems that Todd and I's global warming tour of the world has continued here in New England, where today it is 76 degrees, humid, and rainy, when it should be crisp, clear, and well…fall like. Normally on a Friday a rainy or misty day isn’t such a big deal, since I can pull on a pair of jeans and more water-resistant shoes and be good to go. Unfortunately, one glaring downside to my new job is the dress code – no jeans on Friday (or ever, for that matter), and most people wear suits every single day. Needless to say when I get my first paycheck (which only comes once a month… another, albeit minor downside), I’ll be out buying more suits. But I digress. Since I can’t wear jeans today, and the air is warm and thick, I decide I’ll wear a skirt, and being my mother’s daughter, I’ve decided what shoes I want to wear first, and then I construct an outfit around them. The shoes of choice today were my red leather Steve Madden moccasin flats – a blessed relief after a week running around New Haven and Manhattan in pointy-toe boots and pumps. Plus, since they’re leather, they’ll be good to wear in the light mist, right?
Needless to say, my flats probably would have been just fine if in fact I had been walking through a light mist. Instead, the heavens decided to open – 1 minute after I stepped out our office building to run an errand on my lunch break. Since I only had three blocks to go at this point, I decided to keep walking and hope it would lighten up. It didn’t – until I reached one of the large Gothic churches that dot New Haven. Just as I walked past the church doors, a man stepped out, and began cheerfully singing “Zip a dee doo dah.” Not being a song you hear everyday, I glanced at him, and right as he got to the line “plenty of sunshine heading my way,” it stopped raining. Literally. I think to myself, “Well, if that isn’t a direct connection to God, I don’t know what is.” I continue walking behind him until I reach my destination, and the sun does indeed poke through the clouds.
After picking up what I need, I step back outside and am relieved to find that the break in the rain is still there. I begin to walk quickly back to the office, and just as I round the corner next to the church, the heavens break once again, and it pours in the sort of fierce sheets I haven’t seen since Austria. Zip a dee doo dah my ass. I don’t know whether I should take this as a personal f-you from God, or just that I’m that Care Bear who always has a rain cloud hanging over his head. At this point, my shoes are already damp, but by the time I get back to the office they are soaked through and a completely different shade of red – burgundy, almost. Once I sit back at my desk I look down and think, “Did I cut myself?” because a blotch of red is now creeping up from my shoe. I pull my shoe off and gasp, because my entire foot is covered in red dye. I pull my left foot out and see it’s fared no better.
I go into the women’s restroom (whose mere four stalls are shared by all the women on my large floor), and try to scrub the dye off with a paper towel. It’s at this point that two of my co-workers walk into the bathroom and discover me rubbing at a foot that looks like someone’s supply of fake blood has exploded all over it. Perfect. Oh, and I did mention that I’m humming Zip a Dee Doo Dah when they come in, because now the song is stuck in my head and I can’t get it out? I look like a bloody sociopath, scrubbing with a fervor that would make Lady MacBeth proud, AND I’m a walking Disney ride. Nice. I try to laugh it off and explain it to them, but I think to them I will forever be THAT girl. On top of all of this, the dye isn’t coming off. At all. Todd’s promised he’ll only make fun of me for one week, which is nice…I guess. Until then, I’ll just have to stick to closed-toed shoes – or strut my horror film feet around the block, whistling a merry tune. I’ll let you know which I decide.
Over the past few weeks I’ve frequently been asked by the folks back home what autumn is like in New England. The sad reality is that I can’t tell you anything about it…because it hasn’t happened yet. I can’t begin to tell you how sad this makes me, because I’ve been carrying around this picture-perfect image of fall in New Haven for months now. I pictured myself walking under a shower of crimson and golden leaves, handing out candy to little ghosts and goblins on a crisp Halloween night, and fulfilling all my Martha Stewart fantasies by pulling a fresh-baked pie from the oven, stuffed with the apples I picked myself from the orchards of Connecticut (Alice Waters would be so proud). And while I have gone apple picking in Connecticut, I did it on a mild, sunny, 73 degree day – not the sort of day I would ever complain about, but it certainly didn’t fit my image of crisp New England weather.
And so it seems that Todd and I's global warming tour of the world has continued here in New England, where today it is 76 degrees, humid, and rainy, when it should be crisp, clear, and well…fall like. Normally on a Friday a rainy or misty day isn’t such a big deal, since I can pull on a pair of jeans and more water-resistant shoes and be good to go. Unfortunately, one glaring downside to my new job is the dress code – no jeans on Friday (or ever, for that matter), and most people wear suits every single day. Needless to say when I get my first paycheck (which only comes once a month… another, albeit minor downside), I’ll be out buying more suits. But I digress. Since I can’t wear jeans today, and the air is warm and thick, I decide I’ll wear a skirt, and being my mother’s daughter, I’ve decided what shoes I want to wear first, and then I construct an outfit around them. The shoes of choice today were my red leather Steve Madden moccasin flats – a blessed relief after a week running around New Haven and Manhattan in pointy-toe boots and pumps. Plus, since they’re leather, they’ll be good to wear in the light mist, right?
Needless to say, my flats probably would have been just fine if in fact I had been walking through a light mist. Instead, the heavens decided to open – 1 minute after I stepped out our office building to run an errand on my lunch break. Since I only had three blocks to go at this point, I decided to keep walking and hope it would lighten up. It didn’t – until I reached one of the large Gothic churches that dot New Haven. Just as I walked past the church doors, a man stepped out, and began cheerfully singing “Zip a dee doo dah.” Not being a song you hear everyday, I glanced at him, and right as he got to the line “plenty of sunshine heading my way,” it stopped raining. Literally. I think to myself, “Well, if that isn’t a direct connection to God, I don’t know what is.” I continue walking behind him until I reach my destination, and the sun does indeed poke through the clouds.
After picking up what I need, I step back outside and am relieved to find that the break in the rain is still there. I begin to walk quickly back to the office, and just as I round the corner next to the church, the heavens break once again, and it pours in the sort of fierce sheets I haven’t seen since Austria. Zip a dee doo dah my ass. I don’t know whether I should take this as a personal f-you from God, or just that I’m that Care Bear who always has a rain cloud hanging over his head. At this point, my shoes are already damp, but by the time I get back to the office they are soaked through and a completely different shade of red – burgundy, almost. Once I sit back at my desk I look down and think, “Did I cut myself?” because a blotch of red is now creeping up from my shoe. I pull my shoe off and gasp, because my entire foot is covered in red dye. I pull my left foot out and see it’s fared no better.
I go into the women’s restroom (whose mere four stalls are shared by all the women on my large floor), and try to scrub the dye off with a paper towel. It’s at this point that two of my co-workers walk into the bathroom and discover me rubbing at a foot that looks like someone’s supply of fake blood has exploded all over it. Perfect. Oh, and I did mention that I’m humming Zip a Dee Doo Dah when they come in, because now the song is stuck in my head and I can’t get it out? I look like a bloody sociopath, scrubbing with a fervor that would make Lady MacBeth proud, AND I’m a walking Disney ride. Nice. I try to laugh it off and explain it to them, but I think to them I will forever be THAT girl. On top of all of this, the dye isn’t coming off. At all. Todd’s promised he’ll only make fun of me for one week, which is nice…I guess. Until then, I’ll just have to stick to closed-toed shoes – or strut my horror film feet around the block, whistling a merry tune. I’ll let you know which I decide.
2 comments:
ha!
yay - new post! And if you want to know where the fall weather is, come to Oregon. Though it rains a bunch, when it does stop you can see all the different colors of the leaves as you drive down the street to my house or the street to the law school. It makes the pain of class all that more bearable.
Those are some red feet. I'm in beautiful San Diego right now! And off to Long Beach for 48 hours of pure adrenaline. Talk to you soon. -S
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