The past couple of weeks, the weather in New York has been a super weird tease. It gets beautiful for a few short days and then rapidly descends back into awful awful rain and cold. So people are talking about it like it's the only interesting thing in life. This may be true (probably not), but it got me thinking about the irony of the fact that people demean small talk about weather so much yet allow it to dominate conversations when it acts up.
We're such slaves to the elements, and we barely even realize it. We talk about the rain and then the sun and the temperature because it is this huge thing that we can't control. Sure, we can try to stop global warming (which, according to one of my first graders, is caused by cows' farts), but beyond our measly efforts, we really can't control the weather.
So talking idly about the weather really isn't as lame as it always seems. Or maybe that's just my rationalization of the fact that I unashamedly indulge in that kind of conversation now that I live in a place where weather exists (in California, the rain is always good and the only kind of discomfort I felt from the weather was delicious delicious sunburn - hey look at me all idealizing woo).
I'm not entirely sure if I've ever met someone unaffected by Seasonal Affective Disorder, because to me, and people around me, the sunshine level so heavily influences our moods. When that sun comes out, I want to shout glorious, ridiculous things like "HOW WAS I LIVING BEFORE?!" Then again, I've also said that about the feeling you get when you shave your legs for the first time in a while. TMI right?
Incidentally, 1000awesomethings.com is a fantastic burst of optimism for rainy days (and all days)!
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