Having lived in Alaska for two years as a kid, and then New England, I thought I knew this weather. But as a child, I never had to deal with the relentless reality, never had to struggle to go from point A to point B. I should have realized that all beauty has a price: stiletto heels cause blisters, corsets make it difficult to breathe, and ostrich feathers from my boa tend to stick to my lipstick. So it was that the ethereal panorama of glittering crystals from my dreams made the simplest daily activities incredibly irritating and discomforting to accomplish.
As with most fantasies, the reality simply did not live up. Regardless of my childhood experiences, I was born in San Diego. Sun and surf are in my warm-weather-thinned blood.
Safely back in our heated hotel room, the snow where it belonged on the other side of glass, I contemplated my love of inclement weather. Like the city of New York, I concluded, weather is great to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there.