I am so sick of rain

Can we go back to having a drought again please?  Seriously, I don’t know what it’s been like in other parts of the country, but as far as Atlanta is concerned, it’s pretty much rained every single fucking weekend throughout the entire year.

I’m fairly certain the only weekend it didn’t rain was a week ago, and it was the single greatest weekend weather in history since it did not rain, it was unseasonably warm, and I actually went outside to jog for several miles.  And then the clouds came back and brought the rain and the temperatures plummeted again and here we stand back in colder temperatures with rain, rain and more god damn fucking rain.

We all understand the importance of rain, but can we talk about just how fucking miserable it can also be, when it just never seems to stop coming down?  Rain makes driving more difficult because all the pleebs think it’s liquid incompetence and they drive like morons.  Nobody really likes to get wet while clothed, and feel the need to bring god damn umbrellas everywhere. 

And all rain-related frustration is exacerbated for those who own dogs, as dogs require the need to periodically go outside to conduct their business, but then both dogs and owners must endure repeated trips outside where we all get wet and become miserable, and hate the world when we have to do it multiple times a day.

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Korea Stories: The Tour 😐

When I brought up the idea of going to Korea with my mom, to my mom, initially, the thought was to go see the Korea that my mom grew up in, see the place she called home, any sights and streets that she remembered from her childhood/upbringing, and maybe any restaurants that she might have remembered liking growing up.

It didn’t take long for my mom to dismiss all of that, stating that it had been 38 years, and there was little chance that pretty much anything of her past was still actually in existence.  I had a very 😐 face at this thought, but I understood.

Alternatively, my mom stated that she would, through a travel agent friend of hers, book us a tour package.  I expressed my concern and general disagreement with a tour package, because I typically prefer to not operate on itineraries and schedules, unless like, I’m getting paid to do so.  The freedom to explore and plan my own course is always preferable, but for whatever reason, my mom was insistent on a tour package.  The compromise was that we would have a few days before and after the tour itself to where we could explore Seoul on our own, which satiated my own want and need to explore and wander, so I agreed to do the tour group in the end.

So after four days in Seoul, we flew out to Jeju Island, the first stop on the tour.  I’ll be honest, I didn’t know much anything about Jeju; mythical gf was more knowledgeable about the place, based on the metric butt-ton of Korean dramas she watches, and it’s apparently the de facto romantic destination for Korean couples in them, but otherwise a tropical island getaway destination, often called “the Hawaii of Asia.”

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Let’s just get this shit over with

The San Francisco Giants have made it into the playoffs in spite of a shoddy second-half record on account of a shaky bullpen.  The NL West champion Los Angeles Dodgers simply couldn’t step on their throats hard enough to keep them out of the playoffs, and they’ll have nobody to blame but themselves when they sitting at home while the Giants take out whichever team is unfortunate enough to make it out with the American League pennant.

That’s right, it is a foregone conclusion.  The MLB Playoffs don’t even have to be played really.  It’s just a formality at this point. 

Being an even year, and the Giants have gotten into the playoffs, it’s a lock, a guarantee, that the Giants are going to win the World Series.

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My tolerance for cooler weather is gone

I knew it was going to inevitably happen, considering I grew up with four true seasons every year for 21 years.  And then moving to Georgia where the summers are brutal and the winters are supposedly mild, it was only a matter of time before the tolerance for cooler weather would begin to gradually chip and eat away at me, before I would inevitably look at a particular temperature and go “god damn it’s cold.”

Well, I’m there now, I think officially.  Granted, 37F degrees in October is slightly low on the spectrum of arriving fall weather, but it’s gotten to the point where I have yet to switch my home’s thermostats over to “heat,” and my home’s temperature is dropping into the low 60s, and my bedroom which is over the garage, creeps into the 50s, leading my to wake up cold and blurting expletives when stumbling out of bed in order to hit snooze.

The point remains, I’m easily cold now, vastly more than I used to be in the past.  Sure, I was more conditioned, not to mention my body’s composition was slightly tubbier back then, so say what you want about the insulating properties of blubber, but now, I’m furrowing my brow when it drops into the low 60s outside, and anything equivalent within my home is becoming “too fucking cold.”

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The worst kind of postponing

Long story short: Georgia woman on death row, scheduled to be executed on February 25, 2015 lives to see another few days on account of inclement weather postponing the execution.

This is of course, the woman I brogged about almost two weeks ago, whose requested last meal consisted of some Burger King Whoppers and a whole shitload of buttermilk and buttermilk products, and I accused of basically trying to turn herself into a Left 4 Dead boomer.  So that her goal was to get fat, bloated, and full of gross disgusting waste for her to expel upon expiration, in an attempt to get the final laugh against the legal system that saw fit to put her to death for murdering her husband nearly 20 years ago.

Anyway, I can’t help but feel that this had to have been a devastating blow to the boomer-to-be here.  Sure, there’s the perspective of that she’s going to get a few extra days before the re-scheduled execution, but to me, that’s a few extra days to wallow in misery and postponed dread of maybe possibly having accepted death, only for it to be drug out for another four days.  After all, the state did deny her final bid for clemency, I can’t imagine that a few extra days is going to make anyone change their minds.

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Nine degrees

Cold enough to where if I want to mention it, I have to write out the number, because in conventional writing, single digits are treated in such a manner.

Seriously, nine degrees? Granted, I don’t dislike the cold, but even for me, this is a little bit of frigid.

The scary thing is that I remember the last time it hit single digits, and it was around this time last year; it was like seven degrees when I got back from Las Vegas, and my car’s ignition was definitely labored in the face of the bitter cold. Subsequently, within the next few weeks that arctic snap would also result in the Snowpocalypse which crippled the city under two inches of snow and a sheet of ice, making Atlanta the laughing stock of the planet for a quick breeze.

I’m reluctant to bring that part up, because frankly I’d rather not go through it again, despite the fact that there were hundreds of people that probably had it way worse than I did.

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This is what is crippling Atlanta this week

It’s hard to tell from this shot of my backyard, but although it doesn’t look like a whole lot, there’s a lot of ice coating everything. This ice has managed to knock out all the power in my neighborhood and this has been the case for the last four hours.

I’m posting this from my warm bed, where I will remain for the next few hours, reading books I guess. While I have some daylight, I may as well get started on the 924 page behemoth, Haruki Murakami’s 1Q84. And when I lose daylight, then it’s iPad kindle.

geeg Mother Nature, geeg.