Spring Fever

A question: I wonder how many blogs used "Spring Fever" as a headline this week?

All is well in hot-as-So. Cal Seattle, thankyouverymuch. I'm serious about that: it is 6:15pm and currently 66 degrees. Oof. For those of you who know me well, you know that 66 degrees inches ever-too-close to 70 degrees, which is just a few notches away from unbearable for me. Well, maybe not truly unbearable, but something akin to that, complete with incessant whining and whimpering. I grew up in Los Angeles, the land of arid smog. The entire left side of my body - well, the parts that would be exposed while driving, that is - is covered in a multitude of freckles and other sun markings; the telltale sign of a pre-UV-panic Angeleno. I never slathered just to drive around; back then such a notion would've been laughable.

I was a beach bunny until my hormones kicked in and my angst years descended upon me. I dyed my hair black in 10th grade and wore a trench coat in rain or shine. Aww, how quaint it all sounds now. I wore tights any time I had to expose my legs - I was just generally bothered by sun.

So, I moved to Seattle to live in a land of exotic weather: Rain! Ooh, how I love rain. My vitamin D-depleted friends think I'm nuts; I just don't want sun all the time. Blech. While I'm thrilled to see things blooming (the colors are amazing right now), I'm not really digging this "it's March, put your tank top on" weather.