My Grouchiest Post Ever

I have no official statistics to prove this...just extra pounds of emotional eating on my ass and a deathly, waxy pallor but I think the past winter had to have been one of the grayest I have experienced in a long time.

I never used to mind the darker, colder months until I began experiencing blue moods during the short days of winter. Now in my fifties, I find that I struggle during hibernation--envious of members of the animal kingdom snugly dozing in their dens and caves while I am forced to face the bright lights of the supermarket or the cheerful smiles of the girls at the dry cleaner.

Spring is but a few days old and the grayness continues. Punctuated by a few mornings of bright sun, the clouds roll in by midday and my mood, temporarily burgeoned, crashes into shards by the time Dr. Phil comes on.

Between his array of dysfunctional, traumatized zombies and Dr. Oz, at four, warning me about my imminent death based on a "choose one from column A and two from column B" menu of bad lifestyle choices, by the time Seth comes home, I am usually hiding in a closet with some cheese and Gregorian chants on my iPod.

Fooled ya....I don't have an iPod. I have no need for one since I am somewhat ear bud phobic and would rather suck on Buzzy's tail than spend five minutes uploading, downloading, backloading or offroading my songs onto a little white thing that looks like an electronic suppository.

But back to the weather....

...discussing the merits of
artisanal cheese.

As an unashamed devotee of Grey's Anatomy, I learned that I could not survive the Pacific Northwest. But, between all the damn fake rain on that show, I did come to understand the evolution of hipsters from a sociological standpoint...so all those hours of inert TV viewing cannot be called a waste.

I now believe that their stupid fashion choices arose from the depressing color of the sky out there (yeah, I know you can enjoy a culturally stimulating urban environment while being only five minutes away from nature and I do not care) and skinny jeans are clearly a manifestation of the need to self-punish.

So are those big glasses, crocheted hats and the need for latte after latte since they must over-caffeinate significantly to so much as unfurl their hemp yoga mats every morning.

Leather wristband+ skinny
jeans=oy vey.

I am making the crass and, likely, incorrect assumption that the hipster movement stemmed from out there but based on my own morning's ennui, I will not be doing the proper research on the migratory patterns of the hipster-erectus.

What I do know about hipsters is that they are killing my very own hometown of Brooklyn, New York by making previously unpleasant neighborhoods fashionable and vibrant. Mind your own business, hipsters, why dontcha?

Drank too much coffee and could not
get skinny jeans down in time....oops.

Okay, so far in this post, I have crapped on the weather, iPods, the Pacific Northwest and hipsters. My work here is done... for now. Have a great day despite the continued lack of sunshine.