Having come from a tropical country, I have grown accustomed to year-long summer heat. The summer never fades, it never really goes away. The sun may tire of getting angsty--thus making the heat bearable from October to late January--but nevertheless,it is always there, in all its hot and fiery splendor.
Enter Minnesota, that vast desolate land up in the American Midwest. It's summer and you'd expect bearable weather but, no. The weather is simply schizophrenic. One moment there's sun, the next the clouds have turned green, there's hale! There's storm! A tornado touchdown is expected! And.. in a few minutes time, it has passed and we all get back to business. What storm?!
Now, me? Tropical girl. Me lovey the sunny. Not too much sunny, just a bit. Me lovey the coldee too but not when it's trying to give me frost bite! But circumstances handed me this strange twist of fate: "Tropical girl, go to desolate white, mountainous tundra.. Don't bring jacket, weather very good. Sweat, no more!" (Yeah, so MY fate is half-Japanese with bad English! What do you care?) I liked the prospect of non-perspiration. Rumor has it, Secret deodorant gives you dark underarms... plus, sweating just gives you more oily skin. So off to dry tundra I come.
It is almost the end of summer now. And Tropical girl is freezing! In 60 degree weather, no less! Puh-leeze! This is ridiculous. I loved the cool temps of Baguio, but this here, it's not even that cold. But I'm so cold today. The temp in my relatively warmer room says 68 degrees Fahrenheit. Outside, it's probably in the 50s. But I was not blessed with a leather exterior. Consider this: I NEED to wear a jacket whenever I watch a movie in a theater in the Philippines! Or when I go to a mall there! So you see, I have this inexplicable condition. Well, nothing I've been told of anyways. And to think that come winter, this could go to minus whatever degrees! Oh Mercy!
I would like to snuggle into something warm but then I am an intense animal lover, so no furry friend slash coat for me. Faux fur, perhaps... I'll be the only one wearing fur in friggin' Autumn! Ha! That's a sight for sore eyes...
*Disclaimer: Minnesota isn't exactly desolate, and it's not really a tundra. There's probably ice under the soil but there's lotsa trees and animal life here than just lichens. It's more of a taiga, but tundra just sounds way more dramatic. For those of you who "forgot" what that meant, according to the Merriam Webster dictionary,
tun·dra Pronunciation: 'tun-drah noun Etymology: Russian, of Lappish origin. A level or rolling treeless plain that is characteristic of arctic and subarctic regions, consists of black mucky soil with a permanently frozen subsoil, and has a dominant vegetation of mosses, lichens, herbs, and dwarf shrubs; also : a similar region confined to mountainous areas above timberline
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YAKKED SOMEWHERE. My favorite line in the movie, A Series of Unfortunate Events? "Ga!" Uttered by cute little Sunny... by the way, Jim Carrey and Meryl Streep are amazing in this film, go see it! And let's talk about it in my tagboard!
*A
brief backgrounder, the Salems are my mother's family.Fact 1. By some karmic twist, most of the Salem grandchildren are girls. Fact 2. The family matriarch was curly-haired, the patriarch, straight-haired. And so the tale begins..Every girl dreams of having nice, long black hair, right?--the damn advertisements feed that longing. So if you were a fully developed homo sapiens specie, then you would have developed some rational sort of thinking right? So, say you were born with nice, straight hair, it should follow that that is the same hair you're going to grow old with, right? Is that too farfetched an analogy? Am I being stubbornly insipid here by making such a conclusion? Am I about to cause a benign tumor in Aristotle's head by speaking such? I don't think so. Logic points to straight being straight, bent being bent and gay being gay. Period.
Alas, a curse of some sort has befallen my family. I do not pretend to know when this began, but I would sure like to get to the root of the matter... The curse goes that, on our 10th birthday, the UNRULY, FRIZZY HAIR shall replace our tame, gentle, smooth, silky mane! While some lucky cousins have been spared, seven of us were touched by it. Oh, mercy! And we'll have to live with these options to look more "together": the muriatic acid-laced straightening procedure, the 1st-degree-burn-inducing straightening irons, or the bank-account-murderer hair rebonding process. It really depends on your pain threshold...And it shall never behave again.
Well, I'm loving the bangs as of the moment. In three months time, the curls would reappear, and seeing as salons cost an arm, a leg and cute little butt cheek here in Minnesota, I'm guessing my curly hair will stay that way until I get back to Manila. Sigh. The irony of life.. it gives you joy then all too soon, takes it away.
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