Coffee Rhetoric: Cold
Showing posts with label Cold. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cold. Show all posts

January 17, 2009

Are Witch Titties Really THIS Cold??

It's bitter cold, and my mood is just about neck and neck with this blasted weather. It is definitely days like these that make me curse being born and bred in New England. I blame Canada. In any event, I can't seem to warm up. I can't relax in the confines of my home, because it's freezing. It's a to-the-bone type of chill that is simply inescapable, regardless of how many layers you hide under, how high you crank the heat up, how much Vicks Vaporub you slather under your nose, and how tight of a fetal position you curl up in!! I can wish for man to cozy up next to, but he'd be of no use to me, because he'd be shivering and complaining right alongside me. He'd touch me, and I'd probably shrink away from his touch, due to his hands being ice cold.
How depressing. Last night, bundled up and on the cusp of a nervous breakdown because the bus driver decided to take his sweet time letting pulling up to the stop, my fingers were frozen almost to the point of no return. This is with insulated leather gloves on, a wool coat, and a wrap. Settled within the warm confines of the bus, I glowered angrily at the driver, then I gingerly peeled my gloves off gasping at my blue tinted fingertips!
This is the kind of weather that forces people to walk stooped over as they pull their layers tighter to their bodies muttering and cursing under their breath and to be pissy drunk until they slump face forward on the bus, because the pain of the cold is too much for them to bear. The kind of havoc that wrecks plans, dispositions, and heating bills! As discomforting as I find hot, humid, stagnant air to be, I'd definitely take that kind of summer over this any day. I find it easier to keep cool. Keeping warm? Not so much. I'll admit the cold air has been great for my pores, but sidestepping people sneezing and hacking into the brisk air, and stepping over globs of spit and phlegm on the sidewalk doesn't do anything to soothe my soul or my mild germaphobia. I'm finding myself eating a myriad of strange things for breakfast, in a desperate bid to warm up from the inside out (atomic fire balls and coffee anyone?) Pressing lunch time errands go ignored, because I simply can't bear the thought of going out into the frosty air. As kinky as this may sounds to some, every morning and every evening, I cover myself, neck to toe in thick body butters and generous globs of Vaseline... a vain attempt to keep my skin supple, moisturized, and protected from the ash dying to attach itself to my skin! I'm a greazy woman this winter! And I'm loving every second of it as I'm triumphing over the ashiness. It's an especially mad, cruel, winter or at least it has been these past couple of weeks. The city of Hartford, CT seems allergic to plowing the snow piles properly, making it rather difficult to navigate the curbs and cross the street. Today, a blind woman fell over a pile of snow as she gingerly stepped off the bus, swinging her stick wildly into the air trying to find her way. The bus driver simply looked on from the perch of his seat, as the woman struggled to her feet and dusted herself off. A friendly passenger ran out to tend to her, "Okay, she's up on her feet, let's get going," I heard a dry teenage voice mutter impatiently from the back of the bus. Empathy is officially dead, folks. Nothing left to
do but mull over looming debts that need to be paid and drown my
winter blues in a sea of red wine. piping hot mugs of black coffee, and strong, spicy teas.

January 02, 2008

Brrr...

I'd type something profound and witty, but my finger tips are still thawing out. I also need confirmation that my nipples still exist and I've yet to feel any sensation. So I'm still waiting. Gives new meaning to it being "colder than a witch's tit." My brain was also on freeze because apparently, I walked right by my mother in the supermarket this evening and failed to notice her presence or her gesticulating in vain, to get my attention. This brisk, bitingly cold winter has also prompted my fat ass to swell even rounder and bigger. To massive proportions (as if that were possible). I purchased a pair of jeans today and almost broke a couple of ribs trying to fasten them. Hearty soups, breads, and desserts have a hold over me, apparently. I wont beat myself up over it though. I refuse to go there. Nope. I wont do it. Fughettaboutit! But I may do a black coffee detox (don't ask, I came up with this method all on me own. It's a very complex system and I'm unwilling to relay the details). My current wardrobe still feels familiar. It's the new clothes that are inhospitable, unforgiving, and complete strangers to me. Perhaps it's because the denim is "Rigid"? Excuses, excuses. I'd rather just suck it up, and buy the next size up than berate myself. They're great looking jeans. The weight fluctuates. I wish it and bloat weren't part of my reality, but they are. Nothing left to do other than pop another caramel, make some tea, and psyche myself up for venturing out in the even colder 17 degree weather tomorrow! Oh yes, and the dry cleaners effed up my warmest, Kenneth Cole goose down coat, so I have to add that to my list of random, insignificant, yet significant things to purchase anew. January, February, Maarch, April... pardon me... I'm counting down til Spring... Maay...

December 23, 2007

@!*!!

I blog alot about trying to slay some of my personal demons... but I honestly feel like up against a real, literal one that has decided to use my nose, ears, and head as its own personal condo!
I'm still in the throes of this massive sinus/head cold I have! I'm no stranger to sinus issues. In fact, I may just have a deviated septum (deviated septum = Hollywood actresses' new excuse to get rhinoplasty. P.S. What the hell is a deviated septum??). Anyway, self-diagnoses aside, methinks this is the worst sinus cold I've had in a long time! My head, nose, and ears are on effing fire! It's very uncomfortable, I haven't slept in about two days, I've thrown every thing I've had at it! We're talking heavy artillery! I was making progress yesterday. Everything started to clear out. I was in good spirits (figuratively and beverage wise), I could breathe freely, and I was relieved. This early morning (we're talking 3AM) I woke up, feeling like someone had poured acid in my nostrils as I slept. Now I can't breathe or taste (VERY unfortunate), my eyes are running, my gums are sore, I can't stop sneezing, and I'm very discombobulated. I'm typing slowly in an effort to cut down on grammatical erros and to formulate intelligible sentences here. We're talking THAT discombobulated. In fact, I'm so out of touch with reality that I actually sat there and watched Danielle Steele's Star on the tele. The WHOLE movie! While inside, I asked myself "why?" over and over again.
Ugh. Yes, I'm a whinger when I'm ill only because I don't get colds very often! But seriously, this is some serious bidness. It's like the demon was being pushed out of my system and on the way to the exit (blown out on a Kleenex basically) it caught hold of some rung or ledge, and is holding on for dear life... sharp nails and all. I just drank some hot miso soup for breakfast and downed some mango nectar (which has vitamin C). My goal is to have this monster slain by or before Tuesday!

Wish me luck. Im gonna go lay down and do some more whining.

UPDATE: The horrible force that has me feeling like a steaming pile of dog dookey, is called Sinusitis. Oh joy! "Nose irrigation" with a saline solution is recommended. Mine isn't particularly acute, so I gots it covered. Just sprayed some saline up the ol' nostrils. And I must say, it offered a bit of a reprieve from the intense inflammation.

December 20, 2007

Sick

Whine, whine, whine, whinge, whine. So I'm afflicted with a horrible sinus/head cold. I woke up with sore joints, my head felt too large and heavy for my voluptuous body, my sinuses were on fire, etc etc etc. I felt like I was in a horrible, dark haze of pain and suffering and couldn't claw my way from the depths of it. Finally I forced myself up and at 'em, whincing from the effort. I haven't been sick with a cold in a looong time. I love the babies, but I suspect being around them as often as I have been, has made me a host to their cold germs, unfortunately. I've been coughed, hacked, and sneezed upon. Unfortch toddlers and 8 month olds know fuckall about covering their mouths and lathering up with hand sanitizer. Having made it past the first hurdle: getting up and shuffling to the loo, I couldn't be bothered with coffee, so I made some vanilla-ginger-chai tea with a generous helping of honey and French brandy. Mango nectar, lots of water, and Airborne coupled with hot miso soup just wasn't cutting it... so after I wrapped up an excruciating job interview (excruciating, because my ass was sick and sniffling through the whole process, and I know my breath reeked of mentholated cough drops), I ambled on over to CVS Pharmacy to stock up on some major drugs. Intense sinus relief nasal gel by Zicam and some REAL sinus medication... the kind the drugstores hoard behind the counter, and you can only purchase with a valid picture ID, because it contains Pseudoephedrine HCI... and since it's used to make meth and is considered a narcotic. "At least your puff ball (piled and pinned on top of my head) is perfectly round" opines my younger sister. In addition to my horrible cold, I'm also a victim of pre-menstrual bloat, my bra feels ten sizes too small and is digging into my flesh, the dirty pillows are sore and swollen and I'm extremely gassy. Ah. The joys of being made a special lady once a month. So toss in some Maximum Strength Pamprin into that crazy pill stew and expect me to be extremely hopped up and lucid this fine evening and subsequent day. Oh yes, despite my possibly contaminating the staff's board room in which I was interviewed in, I was propositioned by the CEO, who made me a lucrative job offer. I sniffed and accepted. ;-)

November 05, 2007

Solitaire

Sometimes, when I'm in a room full of people I still feel like a lone ranger. A mirage of bodies moving, side-stepping, dancing around me, yet somehow I never manage to stitch myself into the fabric of what's going on. There, but not completely there. Standing outside the perimeter, weaving in and out of the crowd like an apparition. Selfish, quiet, and introverted as I study snatches of conversations and examine people's body language. Trying to gauge what the moods are. It's almost as if I'm existing in an alternate world while smack dab in the middle of reality. Escapism in its most narcissistic form. I engage in small talk sparingly. At times stingy with what I offer up. Stoic, aloof, embittered because I can't get into the groove like everyone else. Afraid that any vain attempt would be fruitless and seem disingenuous and forced. So I exist in that moment, in a purple haze... as if under the influence of some potent drug or libation. Dazed. And content with my restraint. Fine with the fact that I am out of my element. As much as I tout the benefits of my solitude, I curse it as well. Because I've grown comfortable in it. Too comfortable.

September 14, 2007

And the HATEFUL beat drums on...

I don't have too much to say about the sheer despicable-ness of this crime. How does one even begin?? While our country's leaders fight a fruitless war on terror, and label the likes of Assata Shakur as a terrorist. These are the faces that represent real, homegrown evil, terrorism, and hate. Read and view the video for yourselves.

August 07, 2007

Please Pardon Me...

... I'm brooding. My energy is scattered, the planets and the stars are dispersed all willy nilly. My patience, my intestinal fortitude has been tried and tested and so I'm taking deep inhalations of breath, breathing out slowly, and counting. Because I truly believe certain people were put on this planet to piss off and antagonize others. There are those of us who can shrug off the funk and then there are those of us whose fingers flex after a certain moment in space and time. Our hands open and close from the rage boiling in the bit of our stomach because we want to strike. We want to slap. We want to choke. To injure. But instead we breathe in and out, tell ourselves to get a grip, that'll it'll be okay. And then we count.
One... Two... Three...

June 28, 2007

The Hazy Dayz of Summer...

Summer is definitely upon us. After having stayed indoors at work yesterday, in the frigid air conditioning, I finally decided to step outside. Big mistake. The air quality was pretty bad. It felt like an oven. 'Tis the case with summer. I think I'd much rather gasp for breath in the thick, humid New England air than trudge down the street in snow and ice, ruining a perfectly good pair of boots. A humid summer is the lesser of the two evils. Hazy summer days mean tasty, cold, icy drinks. I came across an article in the New York Times Dining In section, touting the joys of iced coffee. I don't generally make iced coffee at home, I usually just drink it hot and grab an iced coffee on the fly from a coffee shop, if I need to whet my appetite with one. Whenever I try to ice my coffee at home, I'm met with less than stellar results. Me being the impatient person I am, I try to get to icing shortly after having brewed a pot by using a trick I learned per Martha Stewart, using a spoon. Positioned at an angle in the glass, the spoon is supposed to deflect the heat away from the ice cubes, so that they don't melt right away. Fat chance. Either way, after having read the New York Times article, I discovered that there actually is a such thing called an iced coffee brewer. Who knew? I didn't. Apparently the journalist (Cindy Price) who penned the article didn't either. I seem to learn something new about food and drink every week. In any event, one could purchase an iced coffee brewer for about 30 dollars... if one were interested in having one. The one in the pic at the right costs a grip. A simpler method would be the following... **Side Note** I'm partial to Vietnamese iced coffee myself, which uses sweetened condensed milk (There is also a such thing as a Vietnamese coffee kit, by the way). I recommend using a nice, robust coffee to ice.

1/3 cup ground coffee (medium-coarse grind is best) Milk (optional).

1. In a jar, stir together coffee and 1 1/2 cups water. Cover and let rest at room temperature overnight or 12 hours.

2. Strain twice through a coffee filter, a fine-mesh sieve or a sieve lined with cheesecloth. In a tall glass filled with ice, mix equal parts coffee concentrate and water, or to taste. If desired, add milk.

Yield: Two drinks.

June 18, 2007

Hanging on By The Tips of My Fingers

This weekend (and past week) has been less than stellar. I'm having one of those days. I spoke to a close friend last night and listened to the details regarding his unraveling. I wont relay them here, but I started crying (unbeknownst to him) because I felt sad for him, it hit me right in my gut because I feel like I'm not too far behind him. It's as if the world is closing in on me and that I have the worst luck in the world... I'm trying desperately to get my karmic energy right... to make the stars align for me, because I can't afford to lose it. I'm even more suspicious than ever, at this dark place I get up and come to everyday. I'm a little more skittish than usual, testy... everyone is a suspect. I feel uneasy at home, in my apartment. It's as if I'm a pawn in the midst of a twisted game of Clue. 'Been reading my cards non-stop and meditating this past weekend... ... but I still feel unnerved... like something unsettling is on the horizon... unsettling, but something that I'll recover from once the initial shock of it all wears off. I'm merely bracing myself for the onslaught... and my stomach is in knots. I wish I could just pack my bags and get out of dodge... get out of this country... and escape everything... start fresh... If only it were that easy...

March 06, 2007

Brrrrr

Today got off to a bit of a rocky start. I arrived late to work for starters. This is nothing new, but I think the realization that I hate being late for work, hit me hardcore for some reason. Harder than any other time. I'm usually agitated, but matter-of-fact about it. The weather was brutal and unforgiving. The surly wind blowing in from Canada, was harsh. As I stomped down to Starbucks, sniffling back the snot trying to force its way out of my nose, I was thrown for a loop. The weatherman said we would be waking up to record breaking cold this morning, but I never imagined it would be this cold. The bitter wind picked up speed as I hunched my shoulders up, thankful for the long, "puffy" coat, pashmina scarf, and black tights (underneath my pants) I was wearing, and made my way clumsily down the street- (if you don't have a long, puffy coat... get one. They work! Peep Cat above & right, in her DKNY puffy coat). This arctic blast was relentless as it punished me for my tardiness. I had brain freeze and suddenly felt nauseous. Finally making it to Starb(big)bucks without passing out, sniffling and thankful for the warmth and robust coffee smell, the cafe giant provided. I didn't want to leave. But alas, clutching my giant cup of Caffe Verona, the coffee of the day, today, I pushed open the door, and braved the harsh, bitter cold. Finally making it to work, out of breath and disoriented. I'm a fleshy, voluptuous woman, but this level of frigidity didn't recognize that fact or care for that matter. It penetrated deep.
P.S. I'm sitting here (snug and warm) once again, watching Dateline NBC's To Catch a Predator Series and am floored that these pieces of bottom feeding trash still don't and wont learn, that it's not okay to solicit CHILDREN on the internet for sex, and then show up to meet them for relations. Some of them are well aware of the series by this time, but their depraved minds wont allow them to care and to risk the risks of pedophilia. One dillhole is an Alabama cop, whose trunk was loaded down with weapons, ammo, and porn! Amazing... amazingly stupid.