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I think it's official - I am to remain an exile from my homeland. Forever.

Because if I ever had to go back to the Northwest and endure this - (gestures outside) - for more than a few days at a time - I would be morally obligated to off myself. On sheer principle. Because I hate myself and everyone around me in extended periods of this kind of weather.

Me and the overcast, we do not get along. Give me a flash flood that's over within a reasonable time, and I'm more than pleased. Austin, Texas had some of the best rainy days I can remember - a downpour you couldn't even see through for about 15 minutes, then back to sunshine, business as usual. I remember going outside and dancing barefoot in the gutters during a rainstorm there - alarmed my then-companion considerably, but he's the one who missed out. There's nothing quite like splashing in overflowing gutters in a drenched and dripping sundress, water as warm as a shower streaming down your spine. One of my favorite memories of that place. That, and the fireflies at sunset around the Capitol Building. Watching those streaks of light flashing in and out underneath the trees just feet away was like walking into some kind of animated fantasy land.

Oh. Digress much?

But I hate cold, clammy rain than grumbles in and lingers like an unwelcome houseguest. And Mannie told me that (last year? the year before?) Seattle set a new record for 100 straight days of uninterrupted rain. No break. Continual. That's over three months.

Nope. Uh-uh. No can do, folks. Not unless health compelled me, and I were stuck in a hospital bed - and strapped down for good measure, to keep me from jumping out the window. I'd prefer a coma, though, given the choice.

Nikki, the next time you hear me whinge about things New Mexican, do me a favor - pop me a good one in the mouth. Unless it has to do with health care - I'm entitled to rage about that. But anything else - just look me in the eye and say, "One Hundred Days..." in a menacing tone, and I'll be sure to STFU. Yup.

Rain, rain, go away, come again another day....
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For those of you in Albuquerque who are curious about what the Northwest is like -

Look out your window right now.

See that? The drippy, wet stuff coming out of the sky that you don't see here nearly often enough to keep our resevoirs refreshed after the constant drain by golf courses and the lawns of the rich folk who live in the Heights?

That's rain, sweetpeas. And the stuff it comes out of - say it with me kids - clouds. Ooooohhhh.....

Fun stuff to have around for a day or two. For a refreshing break from the every day sun stuff more frequently found out here in the desert.

But what you see today is a temporary thing in these here parts. Not so everywhere.

This is Seattle, every day, for nine straight months of the year.

Whenever I get homesick - for a variety of fresh produce, for gourmet coffee made correctly, for a place where you can't throw a rock without hitting an independent bookstore, used clothing store, or coffee house -

I remind myself that this is one of the chief reasons why I left.

My dad has a theory, based on a statistic. The statistics, according to him, say that more suicides occur the second day of nice weather following a particularly long stretch of bad weather.

His theory? That until there's that tiny break in the ever-present gloom, a window of light in the cave-like oppression of overcast - no one has the energy to off themselves. Give them a day or two of Vitamin D to recharge their batteries after all that fucking cloudcover and drizzle - suddenly it seems like a good and plausible idea to do that swan dive off the Aurora Bridge.

My dad. Such a character.

My God. I sure don't miss the weather back home...


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