Even the Polar Bears are Gone

It’s so cold outside that Santa called in sick. We’re having temperatures on the negative Fahrenheit scale, compliments of Siberia. Today when I tried to scrape the frost from Steve I accidentally hit my frozen finger and I was sure it would shatter like glass, that’s how cold I was.

I’m pretty sure man wasn’t meant to live in climates like this. It’s so cold that the squirrels in the park are throwing themselves at the electric fence. If we were meant to live in a place like this, we’d have been born with a coat of fur and a big cup of hot chocolate. And a personal electric fence.

In other news, I’ve moved in with M. The apartment is a huge mess now with all of my stuff all over the place. M went to Estonia this week and was gone a couple of days. I tried to unpack as much as possible while he was away, mostly because if I did it while he was away I could get away with throwing out a bunch of his stuff. M, if you’re reading this, I have no idea about what happened to your cutlery.

Sadly I didn’t get a whole lot of unpacking done so we’ll have to finish it tomorrow. Tomorrow we’re also going to go steal buy a Christmas tree and make a gingerbread house. My family is coming over on Sunday to celebrate my Bachelor’s degree that I received a couple weeks ago so on Sunday the apartment has to look like I have everything under control. Here’s to hoping mom won’t look under the bed or in the oven. Not that I would ever cram a bunch of junk in there to hide it. Nope. Never.

I’m exhausted after a week of working and moving, so I think I’ll head to bed. I just have to wait for my pajamas to thaw out first. Oh, and does anyone need some free cutlery? Not you, M. *

Even the Polar Bears are Gone

Good Thing I Bought the Death Machine

Not only do my teeth hate me, apparently Steve hates me too. For those of you who don’t know me Steve is my car. He’s an 18-wheeler disguised as a Volkswagen Vento. Steve is a great summer car. He’s reliable and steady and while he can’t hold on to his license plates worth crap, he’s always a nice ride.

During the winter he goes from being a wonderful car to being a pain in the ass. See, Steve doesn’t like the cold. Past winters I’ve had to crawl in through the passenger side door and crawl over the center console to get in behind the wheel. We haven’t really had much of a winter over here yet, but the past couple of days we’ve had temps below freezing and today Steve decided he didn’t want to play.

I was on my way to work and like every other day, I shoved the key into the door lock. Except the lock was jammed with ice, so I only shoved the key half way into the lock. I tried a few times and finally got the key all the way in. Then, like every other day, I turned the key. Except, the key wouldn’t turn because the lock was still jammed with ice. I tried the passenger side door – also jammed. I tried the driver’s side again. Then the passenger side once more. Nothing. At this point I realized I was getting late for work, so I ran back inside to find the lock de-icer in M’s apartment. While searching through his stuff I was silently praying that he actually had lock de-icer at home or I’d have to carry a pot of boiling water out to the car.

Thankfully I didn’t have to boil water, I’m not all that good in the kitchen. I found the de-icer and ran back out to the car. I de-iced the lock and shoved the key back in. The damned key still wouldn’t turn. I tried again, nope. I tried the passenger side. And then the driver’s side. And then the passenger side once more. This time it did turn and the central locking system opened.

I took a moment to swear over being so late for work, and then, like every other day, I opened the door and stepped inside. Except, the door wouldn’t open. It was frozen solid. I tried the driver’s side. Wouldn’t budge. I tried a couple more times, then realized I wasn’t strong enough and looked around for someone stronger. Sure enough, on a lot nearby a group of strong manly male workers were, well working.

I stepped up and asked for help. They looked at me a little funny, then one of the manly men came to my rescue and yanked the door open. I use the term open in a very loose capacity here as he mostly just yanked and rocked the car back and forward like it was starring in a film about an earthquake. The door still wouldn’t open. After a couple minutes of playing “Shake the Steve” I thanked the guy for being of no help to me at all and called M see if he’d let me borrow his little silver car.

M came running home from work to give me the keys to his car and saved the day. My knight in shining armor, he is. I made it to work almost on time and when I got home after work my knight had made me dinner. Let’s all say it together: “Awwww…”

Now I just have to wait for summer and Steve to melt so I can start driving my own car again. *

Good Thing I Bought the Death Machine