What is it about strange weather that renders people incapable of talking about anything but? I'm not saying I'm exempt because there is a wind advisory right now (seriously? wind? that is SO the redheaded stepchild of the weather advisory world) and every time the wind blows all I can think to say to anyone is, "wow, it is really windy outside." CLEVER.
I suppose I could tell you how windy it is. It is so windy that it made it hard to drive this morning. No good? OK. It's so windy that when the wind blew the rain onto my windshield it reminded me of being in the dry cycle of a car wash. Still no good. It's so windy that I had visions of a swinging traffic light coming loose from the line and almost dropping onto the hood of my car, but then Superman came and caught it. Better. How's this. It's so windy that when I got out of the car with my umbrella, a gust of wind caught it and carried me Mary Poppins style over to jolly old England, where I met some chimney sweeps and then we all jumped into a chalk drawing on the sidewalk to live happily ever after. Best, but that's a total lie. Sorry.
Things that are true? I have been walking around for the past hour with my fly down. I haven't been able to get the song "Rainbow Connection" out of my head ever since watching The Office last night. I had applesauce, a cookie, and coffee for breakfast. I used a different perfume today and can't stop smelling myself. I smell really good right now. I wish I was anywhere but where I am at this moment. I hope it snows buckets tonight. I will regret saying that if it does. I have to pee. Dementors ARE scary. Oh. And it's really, really, really goddamn windy outside.