I know, I know, stop staring. You don`t need to mention it, my headlights are on but let me tell you it has zilch to do with arousal. I`m bloody freezing.
I have been consistantly complaining about the weather since I got here and it never gets better. I don`t believe in acclimatisation. It`s a lie, these people are just as cold as me… they just don`t know better…. Or perhaps they think they are unworthy of a better, warmer, sun-tingly life.
Not my problem.
My problem is wearing socks in high summer during the day and sheepskin lined jackets. That`s my problem.
Way to bring me down, NORTHERN WIND.
Now, I could give you helpful tutorials on wheatpacks for snuggling up to at night (you know, those microwaved things that explode in bed and scald your toesies off) or a How To on crocheted bedsocks. But who am I kidding, these guys do stuff like that way better. Instead I will do what I do best.
The piddling offering of five days of sunshine and sporatic bursts of sunrays has been most distressing. A schitzophrenic excuse for a summer which, if you believe the TV ads, is already over because Fall Collection is about to hit the shops.
I almost fell off the couch when I saw that.
“Um WTF?? Autumn, already??“ “Well yes,“ comes the calm, measured reply, “we`ve already had the longest day.“
As though that explains it.
In response to my concerns, a lovely middle aged older woman informed me that she doesn`t need to buy winter pyjamas since she has her Viktor, much to the delight of all the other Europeans present. They practically wee themselves when domestic chatter turns even vaguely kinky. Viktor sat there smirking as the innuendo flew and I had to compose my mouth so that no-one knew I was gagging. I`m polite like that.
So, I`m like Queen of the SAD club right now. Chomping down carbs and sulkily refusing to be glam because the effing rain doth maketh my hair frizzy (and smell like wet dog onion beer) and I can`t be bothered pulling out my nice warm clothes that I gleefully banished to vacuum packing months ago when Winter supposedly ended.
And I have to take, like, 3 showers a day just to stop myself from hibernating. But don`t worry, they clearly don`t have a water problem here because it darn well rains all the bloody time.
In fact, the Russian told me that Europe has a problem with people not utilising the water system enough, causing issues with pipes needing extra maintenance and dams overfilling.
Cos, y`know, they don`t bathe much here on the continent and are obsessed with drinking mineral water out of glass bottles. O.b.s.e.s.s.e.d.
So funny. Guidebooks actually advise you don`t ask for tap-water in restaurants so as not to offend. I have seen waitstaff get narky about it. Bahahahahha.
But the most hilarious thing is that they have delightful, sparkling, alpine-fresh tap water in most parts of Europe I have seen lately*. Yet they are morbidly afraid of the stuff. You should see the panic I induce when I start filling a glass from the kitchen tap. They stare aghast or hurl Evian at me like I`m on fire and need to be doused.
Anyway, I know you know where this is all heading. Shortly I will be dispatching a guide to you all on coping with global warming and other environmental hazards... just as soon as my fingers defrost.
*DO NOT EVER drink the tap water in Russia. That stuff shares the chemical recipe of paint stripper.