Halo Amedika !

For someone who has always traveled around the equator, nothing screams of shock and agony more than the first slap of winter air. In the jolly month of January, I empathized with the sentiment shared by most students of Indiana University Bloomington (IUB):

We fucking hate snow.

An exaggeration, perhaps, but nonetheless rings some bells of truth. It was not so much about the zero degrees Centigrade (or 30 degrees Fahrenheit) and below the white condensed matter proposed, but the condiments that accompany it.

Over the past two-three months of winter, I have endured:
a) Icy wind
b) Hailstones and merciless icy wind
c) Evil rain which lasted for the whole fucking day and merciless icy wind
d) Snow shower which is worse than the merciless rain because it’s fucking hard like sand and assholic icy wind
e) Fluffy snow of three to four inches thick which nobody can throw a snowball with without looking like they are sprinkling confetti. Again, awesome snow is a lie.
f) Slippery snow on every god damned road and pathway which I’ve jinxed myself with by laughing at this guy who has fallen down for the ninth time in the same night two months ago and I’ve just tripped today on the icy doorsteps on my boyfriend’s house.

In the lovely month of December, I thought wearing furry woolly socks with sandals for the wonderful weather of 40 degrees Fahrenheit was possibly my greatest innovation ever, until the white fluffiness collected all sorts of nonsense complimentary of Mother Nature by the time I reached my dorm.

I miss Char Kuay Teow. And real wanton noodles.

On the bright side, I can actually frolic around in track bottoms and Japanese slippers at 28F. Because I’m now as awesome as an Eskimo.

Fuck. After five months of cold, I hate to think about my summer vacation back in BNland. God damn 90F.

I shall talk about Disney and hippies some time soon. Stay tuned.