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Check out that tiny "Feels Like" number.
Just about minus forty. Minis forty. So, freezing is 32 degrees Fahrenheit. And this is 32 less than that. Plus another 39 less than that. How!
This is where I live. Uhhhmm.
A short anecdote: When you exit my apartment through the back door by the second bedroom, you enter an interior stairwell - and when you go down the stairs, you exit through another door and onto the back steps and the parking lot where my little Italian car sits. When I exited the apartment (not the building, the unit), and stood in the stairwell to lock the door, and I could see my breath.
Aaaaaand then in the car, my trusty dashboard display informed me it was a handful of degrees colder than The Weather Channel iPhone app had prepared me for. Muh.
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Why? Just... why.
I used to think withstanding this kind of weather made me some sort of master warrior viking. Now it just downright pisses me off. So much so that I don't even care about ending sentences with prepositions. That's what's up. (There's another boo boo.)
But I will press on. (And another! I must really be angry.) I will do my best to stay comfortable-- physically, emotionally, and spiritually-- during this brutal, ridiculously stupid weather. Tonight, for example, I will be joined by a friend for delicious whitefish sandwiches and half priced tap beer at Zeitgeist, one of the most foodie-esque joints in town.
That is, if their bar isn't a block of ice.
Cold enough for ya, Butch? How was the whitefish? Hope the beer was Leinenkugel.
ReplyDeleteThanks.... Dad? Is this my dad? I don't like when people leave comments without signing them, it hurts my brain. Allow me to respond to each of your questions and statements now.
ReplyDelete1) Is it cold enough for me... yes, yes it is. My toes feel like fiery flame-balls and my fingers feel like fiery twigs.
2) The whitefish was totally delicious. I don't usually care for tartar sauce, but theirs is amazing. Crispy baguette, perfectly pan-seared whitefish filet, tangy arugula, punchy shallots, sweet little roasted red peppers, mmmmmahhhh I'd like another now, please, thank you.
3) The beer was a (well, two) Two-Hearted Ale, made by our fine friends over at Bell's Brewery in Kalamazoo, Michigan. I'm assuming you're my dad because he really likes Leinenkugel. But I don't know if he'd call me Butch. He might...