Did you know it's been colder in Iowa this year than Siberia? I can't actually back that up but it's probably true. Also, we have had TWICE as much snow fall as Minneapolis! MINNEAPOLIS! Everyone knows only eskimos and crazy people can endure a Minneapolis winter and yet, here we are... us Iowans. All of my high heels are ruined from the constant battle of the sludge. My skin is flakier than Paris Hilton (her personality, not her skin genius). My gutters have huge daggers hanging from them, ready to splice my unsuspecting brain everytime I get the mail. Everyone I know is grumpy. One day it was 35 and I actually almost put on a tankini. In fact I did have it on but it didn't go with my dress pants. Plus, don't they say you're not supposed to bring out the MuffinTop until after Memorial Day? I heard that once.
(This is a picture of where I spend my days. This is NOT a black and white picture. It actually is this gray and dismal. Sadly I'm not joking. If you look close you can see a little green banner on one of thee lamp posts.)
They say the best poetry stems from the darkest of places. In the spirit of utter depression, I thought I'd share some winter poetry. I really put my heart into it. No, not really. In fact I don't know who wrote it. Probably some sadistic smart-a$$ in California who is nursing a sunburn and recovering from heatstroke. But since I am officially depressed from this relentless, horrible, icy, snowy, winter, I thought I'd share this little ditty none-the-less.
It's winter in Iowa
And the gentle breezes blow
Seventy miles an hour
At twenty-five below.
Oh, how I love Iowa
When the snow's up to your butt;
You take a breath of winter
And your nose gets frozen shut.
Yes, the weather here is wonderful
So I guess I'll hang around,
I could never leave Iowa
'Cause I'm frozen to the ground!!
(PS- the nose thing does actually happen. Sick right.)