November Girl.

People always ask why I love winter so much.
There are three reasons.
The first being, I hate any expectation that I might go outside.
I always end up stuck in conversations like 'what did you do yesterday? Wasn't it beautiful out?'
and then I respond 'IDK I was sleeping, then I drank beer and watched CSI' and then I get yelled at for choosing to be useless. It's like staying in when other people would have gone out makes me less somehow. As if I fail as a person because I don't find outside enjoyable. I hate it when people treat me as less when it's actually for something I've failed at, why should I accept it for something I have no control over? How is it my fault that yesterday was nice and why does that mean I am somehow socially obligated to go out and enjoy it? Why do people assume I'll enjoy it just because they would have or did.

Second all bugs find me delicious. Mosquitoes, spiders, fleas etc.... If it can bite, it will bite me. It won't be pretty. I swell and turn bright red and it will itch for weeks. FUCK THAT. Fuck Spring.

Third. Snow Is Fucking Gorgeous  If it's too fucking cold maybe you shouldn't live in New York. Maybe you should move to Florida or Arizona or some shit. It is one of the few times you get to wake up and look out the window and see the world as perfect and new. I would rather curl up in bed with hot chocolate, uno and a case of beer in the dark than go to the beach in 102 degree weather. If there ever comes a time when I wake up on my birthday and there isn't so much as some frost on the window, I'll know that it's time to die.