Weather

Today I am pondering the weather, probably because I am supposed to be writing my column for DEEP Magazine. My feigning focus is easily lead astray by the rays of 80 degree sunlight shining through my living room window. In Santa Barbara, we have mild and unpredictable weather, i.e. the heat we are experiencing in January. I want to state that this post is not a compliant, just an observation.

I lived in Chicago last year, and even though the temperature there rises well over 80 degrees at certain times of the year, it is currently 34 degrees with conditions described as a wintry mix--I'm guessing some combination of rain and snow. (I personally prefer the snow to the rain.) While my friends in Chicago consider me lucky, I have a longing for flakes--the weather condition, not the personality type as I find flakiness most aggravating.

The thing I love most about Chicago weather is that you get a bit of everything. I appreciate 80 degrees so much more after thawing out from winter. I found a quiet white winter wonder in Chicago that I will never find in Santa Barbara. My SB winter, not to be overshadowed, says goodnight with a sunset of poetry in hues of pink and orange that paint purple our island blues. I love them both for completely unique reasons. And because I am in Santa Barbara right now I will be grateful for the poetry of my sun as it departs for the day, but that doesn't mean there aren't quiet winter snowflakes softly falling in my soul.

Portraits

I'm starting a column for DEEP Magazine. I am thrilled to have my own column and an introductory bio but the head shot is freaking me out. Luckily, I have some very talented friends, one of whom happens to be a photographer. Rebecca Farmer took a ton of photos for me earlier this week. Just this morning she brought over 12 on a CD and I have been shamelessly looking at them all day. Of course, I immediately posted them to my Facebook account, for some reaffirmation and attention. But I keep scrolling through the album, over-analyzing the way my hair falls across my face, whether or not my thigh looks fat, and if I am starting to get crows feet around my eyes.

Its not vanity, I swear. Photos of myself always make me realize that I never actually get to see my own face with my own eyes...logistical challenges of facial geography render this impossible. It still trips me out. As someone who thinks she has a pretty good handle on what type of person I am, I realize that I have no idea what I look like. I know that I am 5'7", ok 5'63/4" tall and that I have short brown hair. My driver's license says I have blue eyes, but sometimes they look green. So when I look a little too long at my reflection, or scroll through my portraits for the fortieth time in one hour, I'm really just thinking, oh that's what I look like.