Last Thursday, as I'm sure you all know, the internet lost its collective shit over #theDress, myself included. Even my mom got in on it, and she only just started texting within the last year or so.
You know whose mind wasn't blown though? Jen's. In fact, Jen was irrationally angry over the amount of attention being paid to it on the Book of Faces. I don't mean annoyed, either. I mean ANGRY. I believe she went so far as to cite a rising heart rate when I asked her if she was #whiteandgold or #blueandblack. (She's #blueandblack, by the way, and I am #whiteandgold.)
She said it upset her that there was real shit going down in the world, and all anyone cared about was this stupid ugly dress. True. But I don't remember her getting so angry over the chatter surrounding Kim Kardashian's ass, which was less successful at breaking the internet, but still commanded the attention of many a Facebook feed. I suspected something else was at play. "What's wrong, Jen? PMS? Work stress?" Yes...but meh, to all of the above. As we talked, the real meaning of Jen's dress angst revealed itself.
"Winter just isn't ending."
There it is. Look, you're probably tired of me bitching about winter, but #sorrynotsorry because this is my blog, I do what I want (as I sit here typing by the blinding light of of my seasonal depression lamp). It's March kids, and this is the point of the year when (relatively) sane people like Jen start to go insane. It's a sad fucking state of affairs when cracking 35 degrees feels balmy. So what if the dress is a scientific enigma? JEN DOESN'T CARE ABOUT IT, AND WINTER IS STILL HERE, SO STFU ABOUT IT, AMIRITE?
So the dress blew my mind, but I'm with Jen. I am over winter. Like REALLY over it. In fact, I'm fighting back. Some might call it denial, but I call it fighting for all that is good and holy in this world. I'm doing it in small ways, you know? Planning my springtime birthday, unsuccessfully wearing bronzer on my now translucent skin, listening to reggae music to take me back. And I'm doing it in some not-so-small, potentially dumb ways, too. Like...refusing to wear a heavy winter jacket and driving in the ice and snow. But if I didn't drive in the ice and snow, it would be like letting winter win, you know? Like how if I didn't fly because I was afraid of terrorism, it would be like letting terrorists win.
Unfortunately for me, not unlike terrorists, winter does not give a single fuck.
But if you're like me and you're fighting the good fight, let's all keep on denying the presence of winter and pretend it's spring and pretend we're going somewhere awesome, like one of these places...
Jen and I were thinking of doing our next big trip to Thailand in the fall, and we were super stoked. I was even about to go schedule me some vaccinations, but then she told me that October is their rainy season. I asked how rainy. She said monsoon rainy. So that's out. But right around now, Thailand is in its dry season; in fact, it is until May. It's always hot. And LOOK AT IT. Looks like a better spring break destination than Cancun, don't you think?
I stupidly went to Japan last January because "romance," and I don't regret it because I learned how to ski and got to eat some ridiculous food, but I do feel like I will someday have to go back to experience the cherry blossom festivals in Tokyo. I mean, sure DC has cherry blossoms, but fuck DC. DC is ugly, and the sushi isn't as good.
My roommate Rhi just visited Amsterdam, and it made me nostalgic for a long weekend I spent there while studying abroad. I think Amsterdam is an awesome spring destination because they have a tulip fetish, and so do I. Also, don't you just want to be outside in the spring? Taking a boat ride on the canals is a great way to do that, and also everyone in the city rides bikes. I love riding bikes.
NEW YORK CITY
Autumn in New York is beautiful, no doubt, and people visit New York to experience Christmas time there, but personally, spring is my favorite time to experience New York. To be fair, spring is my favorite time to just like, you know, live. But still. I always love that first warm day of the year when New Yorkers seemingly wake up and come out wearing way too little clothing for the warm but not exactly hot temperatures. Everyone is back to being comfortable; no more walking around bundled in a giant black coat, face down to avoid the wind, sloshing through the slush swamps at every corner. And spring is before it gets so hot that the city perpetually smells like sewage and the subway is too miserable to contemplate. Spring in New York is perfection.
Do I really need to explain myself? Doesn't the saying go "Paris is always a good idea?"