Dear Alabama (the state):

YOU SUCK.

Most of the time I don't really mind Alabama, aside from the occasional (well, okay, far-more-than-occasional) bad drivers, people who modify their mufflers to compensate for their low self-esteem (because, obviously, loud car = awesome person, right?), and Republican majority (also, Larry Langford, about whom [who?] I still need to rant).

But seriously, Alabama weather, what?

Let's be frank here. This past weekend, the weather was beautiful. I was able to lie on the quad beside my favorite boy, mostly in the sun but still mildly warm when the sun would go behind the huge sparkly rock. We could walk around at night without feeling like we were about to turn into ice sculptures (well, I speak for myself, since you like cold weather, Joseph =) ). The weather evoked memories of mine and Joseph's early days, before we were "Christina and Joseph/Joseph and Christina." Those are great memories, of standing-but-mostly-sitting in the parking lot of IB by the trees, back when they still had trees, in a group of people we, for the most part, didn't really like but hung around anyway, just laughing and talking and getting slightly sunburned (but in my case, tan), making jokes and planning our next trip to Buffalo Wild Wings, or even the nightly adventures-- that is, mostly Buffalo Wild Wings, Starbucks visits/"dates" that were exclusively Joseph and Christina only.

The night of March 17, 2006 still makes me laugh as I think of Alen driving around in the motorized shopping cart, followed by subsequent admonishing from a Walmart employee, then me riding the child's carousel when we were leaving, then climbing the hill behind the Trussville theatre/BWW/Walmart as we clearly ignored the sign that said "DO NOT CLIMB HILL." Then me, in all my Mario T-shirt and Hollister sweatpants-glory, talking to Joseph as we stumbled around the words we each wanted to say/hear, and finally after months of talking, getting to know things about one another, even attending an open-captioned version of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (noble themes abundant), began an official relationship that has, somehow but thankfully, persisted to today and hopefully will continue to do so for a time so long as we see fit.

THAT'S the kind of thing I associate with weather like this past weekend's. Now? Not so much. I despise winter. I'm a summer baby, I was born on a day when the temperature passed 100, as my mom will painfully tell you, so I hate cold. I hate being bundled up, and while I may hate my hair blowing in my face and eyes, I love when the wind that blows is a warm one.

I guess all this was to say that "what the hell Alabama weather" sums up my feelings for March so far. Please get warm again, especially before March 17.

March 17 has always been one of my favorite holidays. What better day to have an excuse to wear all green, my favorite color, and flaunt the Irish/Celtic heritage I hold so dear to my heart? What better day to celebrate the true, annual anniversary of the beginning of a great, positive relationship? I'm glad it just so happened to be that day.

Boo for weather, but hooray for my man.
:D