being rudy huxtable

it's already may but it's still cold and wet. i didn't think i'd ever miss southern california, but months of this shit on end isn't doing anything to help my seasonal affective disorder. nonetheless, i still find i'm not dressing appropriately. in college, i used to make fun of all those assholes from california who were seemingly in denial about the cold northeastern weather. you know those guys, the ones who would wear cargo shorts and flip-flops (and sometimes the unmentionable combination of socks with sandals) in the middle of december. somehow, i've become that same dickhead that i so abhorred six years ago. anytime the temperature's over 40 degrees, i'm out in my flip flops and flimsy puma track jacket like some asshole that lived in california for a year. i'm kinda like rudy huxtable in that one episode of the cosby show where it's almost or is springtime but still cold as witchy titties and she sits up in her room for what seems like hours sulking because the beautiful mrs. clair huxtable, esquire, didn't want her to wear a flimsy sundress to her friend's (outdoor?) birthday party. i always hated that episode because i couldn't understand why someone would do that. oh how life imitates art.