The climate in New Mexico is vastly different from the climate here in Arkansas and though it has been almost three years since I moved here, I am still adjusting. I know, three years is a long adjustment period, but when you spent 19 years in one kind of place and then move to a totally different kind of place...three years does not seem to be so long.
The summers here are obviously different. New Mexican summers are blisteringly hot, the sun could bake you like a potato in 10 minutes flat. But the heat is dry, it's a light kind of heat that you can breathe in, that you can escape if you hide in some shade for a while. The summers here are very nearly unbearable for a desert rat like myself. Here there is a heavy, wet, oppressive heat that can only be defeated by some serious air conditioning. You can't escape that kind of heat; it conquers even the nicest of shade trees. I hate hearing the locusts outside in the summer because their chirping sounds to me like "Saa-aa-aa-die! Come out here and swelter in this outdoor saaaaaaauna!" I hate those stupid locusts.
Like I told Dr Stratman yesterday: I was a lifeguard for two years in Roswell. I survived the heat there, though on some days it felt like my sanity was seeping out my pores, but I could not be a lifeguard here. I would just plain fall over dead.
In Roswell, spring and fall are marked mostly by wind and dirt. The dirt blows in your eyes and your hair and your lip gloss so all spring and fall you walk around with scratchy eyes, dusty smelling hair and gritty lips. The temperature is nice, but the blowing dirt...not so great. Spring and fall in Arkansas are lovely, prone to make me stare out the windows of my classrooms longingly, prone even to inspire me with poems. Though honestly, I would take dirt in my face over tornadoes any day.
And winter. I loathe the winter. I like cold weather for about a week, which is long enough to wear some cute clothes and light a fire, but then I'm done. In New Mexico the cold is different too. When I lived in Albuquerque and was going to school there, I learned the art of layering well. Because when I left the house in the morning it was cold enough to freeze the snot in your nose but by noon is could be a lovely 60 degrees outside. In Arkansas I have learned to layer too, but for a very different reason. Here I have to layer just to get to mail from the mailbox lest I turn into an ice sculpture on the front lawn. Here it is very likely that the snot in your nose is going to stay frozen for a good two weeks before you get some relief.
And you know what winter? I am ready for the snot in my nose to melt! Once, I wore two pairs of pants to school because when I left the house it was 9 degrees. 9! And it was only going to get up to something idiotic like 12 degrees by noon. That is just ridiculous. I would never survive the weather anywhere north of where I currently live.
All that to say, I'm done with this whole winter thing. I'm finished. I am putting away my winter clothes and they are not coming back out, not even if it snows. Perhaps I can bring on the spring just by sheer force of will. Perhaps winter will look into my face, see the revolt in my eyes as I scurry across campus in my little cardigan and cropped pants, and it will cower.
That's the plan folks. Won't you join me in the uprising?