I used to be a tough North Dakotan, as far as weather was concerned. To be clear, 'weather' is the only North Dakota category I can be considered anywhere close to tough in. Hunting? I'll let you spend hours stalking, slaughtering, and mutilating a helpless animal until you've transformed it from a peaceful living creature into Tuesday night dinner. Give me a call when it's cooked and sitting on a dinner plate, preferably with a baked potato and a side of corn. Fishing? No, I don't really want to bait my own hook....but I bet I can drink 17 beers on the boat before you guys fill up the livewell. Snowmobiling? I tried that a couple times in middle school. Almost crashed into a barbwire fence and ultimately got stuck in a pit, then got yelled at by the Culligan Man for being reckless. So I'm all set there. I like your Arctic Cat jacket though. It's very neon. Cold weather, though? I could handle that. No, I'm not cold, you pussy. Here, take my gloves, I don't even need them right now. Hands were getting sweaty anyway.
But I've been gone for over six years now, and the last couple years, my body finally acclimated to the warmer Kansas weather. Christmases up north are now almost intolerably cold for me. In addition, I completely lost my ability to dress responsibly according to the weather conditions. Last year, during the 12th Mostly Annual Walsh Quad Kickball Game, it was below zero, and I figured I'd be OK in a track jacket, MC Hammer pants, ankle socks, and tennis shoes, "Since we'd be running around and stuff." When I saw people showing up in full body snowsuits, face masks and boots, I knew I was in trouble. Plus, I thought it was a good idea to drink a 40oz. outside in those temperatures, so I ended up leaving half of the skin in my mouth area stuck to the bottle that night. A man can't even enjoy his malt liquor in peace? I honestly can't understand why that region of the country is inhabited with human beings. Basically, at this point in my life, every time I get ready to drive up for Christmas, I hope for the warmest temperatures possible, as my ability to accept shitty weather with a shrug and a grim smile is gone.
But not this year.
Before we started dating, Teens had never even set foot north of Omaha. She's been to North Dakota on a couple of occasions since then, but never during winter. So I want her to see what it's really about. I want it to be cold. I want it to be freeeeeezing. I want to make her go start the car and scrape windows in the morning. I want her to go to the gas station, and scurry back inside the car while the gas is pumping, because you can't stand to be outside for even a couple minutes. I want her to run from a parking lot to a building because she can't stand walking in the cold, while I crack jokes like "You know, it's not really the heat, it's the humidity that'll get ya." I want her to pull a 'Jenna', also known as getting hammered, then coming home and crying in the middle of the night in bed because it's so cold. (Although, to be fair, that incident occurred at Culligan Manor, where the walls were made of paper mache, and we had competitions with friends in other apartment buildings on how deep we could get into winter without turning the heat on.) I want all of it.
So bring on the cold, Weather Gods. Do this for me, and I promise, I won't drink any more 40's in the Walsh Quad, ever again.
(That's a lie, Weather Gods. Just hook me up anyway.)
