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I'm old. Also, cold.
Dec. 5th, 2007 02:35 amBack in what I like to call my Era of Great Tackiness, which was 8th grade to 10th grade, I wore ungodly amounts of mismatched plastic jewelry, broken, dirty, mismatched shoes, and a lot of make-up which I was, hilariously, allergic to. This was like my own personal 80s. Everything was a poor fashion choice. Except we were really broke back then, so it was really just t-shirts and jeans with a lot of random crap layered over top.
Back before the word was widely used (God I'm old) I had a scene staple: a collection of arm warmers. By collection, I mean three pairs: fishnet fingerless, electric blue fingerless, and black handless (so they were just black tubes of fabric). I inherited this last pair from my grandmother, who was so skinny the two other things I inherited from her don't fit, which are her wedding band and her jade ring, which are a size 4 or something. Anyways, I marched around the hallways of Powell and Springstead with my arms covered in fabric and plastic like I didn't care, which, incidentally, I didn't.
I'm mentioning the Era of Great Tackiness because I've broken out the blue arm warmers again. Not because I want to relive some horrifying moments of my life, though. It's because I'M COLD.
In Florida, for those who don't live here, the houses are mostly one story, with a very small space above them called the "attic" but which doesn't have an actual floor, and you have to get to it by using a hole in the ceiling. They also don't really have a lot of separate rooms. The kitchen, dining area (or dining room, if you're richer) and the living room are all in the same general area, in the middle of the house (and the front doors as well as the garage doors commonly open onto this area as well.) Coming off of this area are the bedrooms and bathrooms.
The heat in the central rooms comes from several small ducts. Now, this doesn't quite work, as it's much harder to circulate hot air in a large space than it is in a small space.
Now, you'd think in the smaller rooms the heating efficiency problem might be a bit better. Nope.
My house has no insulation in the "outside rooms". These are rooms like mine that have most of their walls bordering no other part of the house. The parts of my room that do border the house don't border anything useful; how hot can a bathroom or a pantry closet get?
So no matter where I go at night I'm cold. According to WeatherBug, it's 42 degrees at the elementary school down the block.
My room is so cold that the parts of the bed I'm not currently occupying literally feel like I'm touching ice cubes. Even with an electric blanket cranked up to fifteen. Ack.
Anyway, the point of this entry is that while I like to believe I've left all of my bad habits behind, sometimes I have to embrace my inner sixteen-year-old (the one I'm identical to, according to, like, everyone ever) and wear arm warmers to actually keep my arms warm (omgwtfgasp!)
I'd wear the beautiful pink ones Bianca gave me, but those are too pretty and I might snag them or something, so I'm saving them for a time when I'm not sitting in the dark by myself.
In case you're wondering, the next era was the Era of Lesser Tackiness (tons of bangles and beaded bracelets and more beads than my poor neck could handle) which blended seamlessly into the Era of Oh My God, Everything Matches. I can't wait to see what my next era will be. Hopefully it'll be warmer.
-3:01 AM
P.S. Everything they've told you about Florida being a warm, sunny paradise all winter long is a BITTER, CRACK-INDUCED LIE.
Back before the word was widely used (God I'm old) I had a scene staple: a collection of arm warmers. By collection, I mean three pairs: fishnet fingerless, electric blue fingerless, and black handless (so they were just black tubes of fabric). I inherited this last pair from my grandmother, who was so skinny the two other things I inherited from her don't fit, which are her wedding band and her jade ring, which are a size 4 or something. Anyways, I marched around the hallways of Powell and Springstead with my arms covered in fabric and plastic like I didn't care, which, incidentally, I didn't.
I'm mentioning the Era of Great Tackiness because I've broken out the blue arm warmers again. Not because I want to relive some horrifying moments of my life, though. It's because I'M COLD.
In Florida, for those who don't live here, the houses are mostly one story, with a very small space above them called the "attic" but which doesn't have an actual floor, and you have to get to it by using a hole in the ceiling. They also don't really have a lot of separate rooms. The kitchen, dining area (or dining room, if you're richer) and the living room are all in the same general area, in the middle of the house (and the front doors as well as the garage doors commonly open onto this area as well.) Coming off of this area are the bedrooms and bathrooms.
The heat in the central rooms comes from several small ducts. Now, this doesn't quite work, as it's much harder to circulate hot air in a large space than it is in a small space.
Now, you'd think in the smaller rooms the heating efficiency problem might be a bit better. Nope.
My house has no insulation in the "outside rooms". These are rooms like mine that have most of their walls bordering no other part of the house. The parts of my room that do border the house don't border anything useful; how hot can a bathroom or a pantry closet get?
So no matter where I go at night I'm cold. According to WeatherBug, it's 42 degrees at the elementary school down the block.
My room is so cold that the parts of the bed I'm not currently occupying literally feel like I'm touching ice cubes. Even with an electric blanket cranked up to fifteen. Ack.
Anyway, the point of this entry is that while I like to believe I've left all of my bad habits behind, sometimes I have to embrace my inner sixteen-year-old (the one I'm identical to, according to, like, everyone ever) and wear arm warmers to actually keep my arms warm (omgwtfgasp!)
I'd wear the beautiful pink ones Bianca gave me, but those are too pretty and I might snag them or something, so I'm saving them for a time when I'm not sitting in the dark by myself.
In case you're wondering, the next era was the Era of Lesser Tackiness (tons of bangles and beaded bracelets and more beads than my poor neck could handle) which blended seamlessly into the Era of Oh My God, Everything Matches. I can't wait to see what my next era will be. Hopefully it'll be warmer.
-3:01 AM
P.S. Everything they've told you about Florida being a warm, sunny paradise all winter long is a BITTER, CRACK-INDUCED LIE.
