(You don’t think so?)
Let me explain.
Today, sixty-degree weather and cloudless skies decorate Portland and its surrounding metro areas. Almost as if the man upstairs is giving us a break from winter or something, just for the day, because we’ve been such good kids all week. (This isn’t the reason I’m a straight-up sham, though. That part comes next.)
First of all, in my defense, I didn’t realize these picturesque atmospheric conditions would grace Portland today. Because while I’m unemployed? I’m not watching the news, and I’m sure as hell not mindful of the forecast (although I do still refer to Matt Lauer and Meredith Vieira as “Matt and Mer” – and still expect my friends to know who I’m talking about when I say things like “Mer was so great today” – and of course I still call the anchors my "best pals"). These days, I’m sacrificing mornings with my channel-eight buddies to sleep until 10 a.m., chat online for a good portion of the afternoon, spend my savings at Nordy’s, and show up at Portland’s best happy hours. A wise trade? I think so. (Or at least I thought so.)
I didn’t figure we’d catch a glimpse of spring today. But if I'd hung out with Matt and Mer and Al this week? I would've known the weather forecast and wouldn’t have made such a fool of myself this afternoon. (Damn you, Unemployment!) You see, yesterday I haphazardly chose to ridicule the types of girls that dress in sundresses, sandals and shades on the first day the sun peeps through Oregon’s thick clouds. Out of nowhere, I completely went off on these people. And, no, I don’t remember what brought it on. All I know is there wasn't a girl in sight who wore any sort of clothing that evoked summertime. I simply felt the need to express a random irritation. And it's a free country.
“Portlanders are so eager for sunshine that it doesn’t matter if it’s 50 degrees or 70 degrees – they’re in cargo shorts and skirts and sandals and sunglasses! Haha!” I went on like this for a while, with sinister cackles escaping my word hole. As if I don’t place myself right in the dead-center of this category of sad Oregonians.
The part about hypocrisy?
Today, Mr. Sunshine pokes his head through the clouds. The wide blue yonder turns a dazzling sapphire color. A new kind of energy flows through me. I change from jeans and an Arizona State tee-shirt to a purple, cotton sundress. And flip flips. And then I put on my sunglasses and get in my Jeep to take a drive, just for fun, through the gorgeous summer daylight while singing along to 1990s hits by Amy Grant and Ace of Base.
The temperature in the car? Reads fifty-four degrees.