(Please Don't) Let It Snow

Never mind the fact that it seems to have been January for the last five months straight, or that here in Charlotte, North Carolina it rains approximately eight and a half days every week (that is a fact, even it if seems like an exaggeration), now the ultimate fill-my-heart-with-dread event has occurred: the weatherman is talking about snow later this week. Granted, it would be what we call a "dusting" rather than a major snowpocalypse--it takes at least an inch of wintry precipitation to cause that level of crisis--but still, it's snow. In the South. And a lot of y'all are, for reasons outside my understanding, actually excited about it. I mean, some of you are doing all those winter superstitions to try and conjure the stuff, for Pete's sake. You know the things I mean--putting a spoon under your pillow, flushing ice cubes down the toilet, and putting on your pajamas inside out and backward. All things I might have, at one time in my naive youth, considered doing in a fitful snow dance myself. No more. And I'll tell you why I say no to snow: I'm Southern, and frankly my dear, we just can't handle it.

Other than that, let it snow.

For starters, any time the "s" word is mentioned in our weather forecast, we all go into milk sandwich hysteria. You know what I'm talking about: whether you want it or not, even if you are lactose intolerant and gluten free and haven't had a glass of milk or a loaf of bread since the Obama administration, the sheer societal pressure from the panicked Southern folk around you will inevitably force you to the insanely crowded grocery store, where you will elbow, scratch, and claw your way to the empty shelves in an attempt to buy sustenance for the winter weather that looms before you. What do you need milk and bread for, exactly? No one knows, but everyone stockpiles. I personally load up on things like Chex Mix, Diet Coke, and Flamin' Hot Cheetos, but that's the modern, devil-may-care rebel in me, I suppose.

For reasons unknown to anyone, milk and bread become black market,
rare-find snow commodities down here.

Another reason we simply do not need snow down here in the South is that we can't dress for it. We spend our fun money on things like pool floats, bathing suits, or sundresses, not waterproof winter boots and snow pants. Have you ever seen someone walking in the snow in flip flops? I haven't either, but you know it happens. A few flakes cover the ground, we need to make one of those snowmen that is half red mud and half ice, and suddenly we are putting sandwich bags on over our socks to try and keep our feet dry. Aren't we better than that? We are a society made for things like open toe shoes and seersucker, which last I checked, don't pair well with blizzard conditions.

And in case you forgot the great Atlanta "snowmageddon" in 2014 (which Saturday Night Live hilariously spoofed in a skit where they dubbed snow "the devil's dandruff"), we can't drive in the snow either. Let's be honest: we aren't great in the rain, but my word let that rain turn to sleet or snow and we lose our minds and our driver's education. We have traffic jams, poor idiots sliding off the road or worse, into other cars, and pure transportational shutdown. We wind up walking in the snow in our flip flops (again, I've never actually seen it, but I know in my heart it happens). For some reason, Southerners can cut doughnuts in their pickup trucks in slippery wet mud all Saturday long, but let the highway have a frosty sheen and no one remembers which is the gas and which is the brake.

Southerners, take note: here is how we drive in the snow. 

I've reached the conclusion that the only thing I really like about snow is watching it fall. It's peaceful and beautiful for a few hours, viewed from inside a warm house with a crackling fire. Beyond that, it's a cold, wet, messy, annoyance and I just don't have an arsenal of movies or television shows strong enough to get me through it right now. I hate to rain on your spoon-under-the-pillow backward-pajamas parade, but as for me and my house, we will be over here wishing: please don't let it snow, I beg of you don't let it snow, snow thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, all this talk of snowfall has me jonesing for a loaf of bread and a gallon of milk. I guess I'd better stock up.

New Year, New...Nevermind

Well, the eggnog has run out and the sausage balls are moldy (sob), so I suppose Christmas time has officially ended. I know all good things must come to an end, but what sadist invented January? Not only do we have to put away all the pretty, sparkly, shiny Christmas decorations, but the whole world collectively starts a diet as well? What a recipe for happiness.

I'm all for self-improvement, believe me, but I just can't get into this new-year-new-me mindset that sweeps the masses this time of year. I'm not going to make any wild, over-the-top resolutions that are impossible to attain. Ever the sensible one, I've decided instead to give myself a few 2020 aspirations that are are a little more achievable and realistic.

1. I really, really hope to stop building character. Every time something terrible happens, inevitably, some well-meaning person will remind me, "it builds character." However, after forty plus years of character building, I've decided that it would be greedy to continue to hoard character the way I have been. I think I will continue just fine with the character I've already stored up, so the universe can just keep all those building experiences away from me in 2020.

2. I will not panic like the rest of the South when the forecast calls for 1/8 of an inch of snow. I will dutifully stockpile bread and milk (and Chex Mix, because duh) and stay inside until the threat has passed and the snow has melted enough to reveal the luster of red mud below. Keep calm and watch Netflix...that, I just know I can do.

3. I will say ma'am and sir. That may seem shocking for a self-professed Southern belle to say, and let me assure you, I already say ma'am and sir, but my resolution is to continue doing just that. I wavered ever-so-briefly about this a few months ago when a new neighbor seemed to take offense at my calling her ma'am: "Why did you say ma'am to me? Because you think I'm old?" After polling as many gentile-mannered friends as possible, I am reassured that using ma'am and sir are simply signs of respect and not age-related in any way. Besides, speaking of age, I've been saying ma'am and sir my whole life and I'm not really up for learning any new tricks at this stage in the game. No, sir.

4. Believe it or not, I resolve to sparkle more. As we started the sad, painful, depressing process of taking down all the Christmas decor, I lamented to a friend last week how desolate I think everything looks this time of year. She told me she thinks of it as clean and renewed, but I expressed my love for all things that sparkle and shine and told her it's just not the same without it all. In her wisdom, she told me to just get more things that sparkle and shine. What a game plan! Does anyone know the name of Elton John's interior decorator?

5. This year, I'm also planning to drink more Diet Coke. Yep, that's right. While everyone is telling you to stop drinking soda and flood your body with enough water to float a boat, I've decided that Diet Coke is my vice and vices keep things interesting. My adoring spouse will plainly tell you--as he's told me on several occasions--that I'm a nicer person to be around when I'm drinking Diet Coke. Sure, I can get a caffeine fix from coffee, but I still require a Diet Coke every few days to really keep things effervescent (see what I did there?).

6. Last, but certainly not least, I want to break less in 2020. You see, last year my trusty retainer broke, my veneer on my right front tooth cracked and had to be replaced, and my left ankle snapped like a twig after a fall down a couple of stairs. And that all happened in the first four months of the year! I'm resolving to try and stay whole this year...well, except for breaking records or breaking hearts, which sometimes just can't be helped. Wink.

I have a few more minor tweaks I'm considering, like refreshing my Spanx collection (those poor things have been stretched to the max and back again, especially this time of year. Thank you darlings for your Herculean efforts) and *maybe* reducing my number of eye rolls, but everything in moderation...including moderation.

Forget about those trite resolutions to lose weight, exercise more, get in shape (round is a shape, after all), eat more vegetables: blah! Instead, just keep on being the version of you that's already gotten you this far. Maybe just resolve to have a happy 2020 and let it take itself from there. And if that fails, crack open an ice cold Diet Coke, hike up your Spanx, and add some rhinestones wherever you can.

Now these seem more reasonable. Happy New Year!