Brrrr

In Little Women, one of the girls, Jo I think, goes on an on about how she hates French and so when some old Auntie is going to go to France and wants to take someone with her she decides not to take complainy old Jo, but to take her nice sister, Amy, instead. Amy just loooooves French and would just diiiiiiie to see Europe, so she goes and Jo is left singing "je ne regrette rien" in her whiskey (or maybe this only happened in my edition). This is the only part of Little Women I remember, so clearly the danger of complaining wasn't wasted on my 8-year-old brain. So it is with some trepidation that I admit I really really dislike snow and cold weather. My reaction to the piles of dog-pee-dotted white snow lining the streets and reflecting the weak winter sun, which seems to elicit joy from many, is along the lines of "just melt already so I can wear my high-heeled boots again."

Clearly, as well as not being a pet person I am not a snow/cold/wintery sort of person. I'm annoyed I have to wear long underwear; I'm annoyed I have to bundle the kids up 3 times a day; and I feel like a pack mule always trudging through the snow or slush with my stuffed Coop Forum bags. I'm sure my dislike is amplified by the fact that I don't ski and, being from San Francisco and all, have no fond childhood memories of frolicking in the snow. Now, I know it would be much more annoying to be living in northern Sweden, where it's been like -25 degrees (-33C) instead of the balmy 14 degrees it's been in Gothenburg for weeks, but I'm still annoyed. I am just always cold and I refuse to buy those super ugly $500 Bally Curling boots everyone has. I realize this probably ruins my chances of getting invited on an all-expenses-paid ski trip to Kitzbühl next year by my long-lost Uncle Teddy, but so be it. I am freezing my West Coast tush off and tired of looking like a puffy black ball topped with a purple pom-pom.