Tuesday, December 17, 2019


One of the ways you can tell that you're getting older, or have lost a lot of weight, is when cold weather becomes a pain in the postern. While outside having a smoke I was staggered and appalled by the number of people with bare arms or bare legs. Probably New Yorkers, thin crust pizza eaters, sneering East Coasters, and health freaks. Arrogant young monsters.
Idiots. It's cold! Cover yourselves!

A-shirt, tee-shirt, flannel shirt, sweater, and a thick lined coat.
That's at least six layers between me and the air.
And all-together barely enough.

It's fifty degrees outside. That's sixteen degrees warmer than in New York, so of course those people are sneering. Anybody who has watched the series 'Friends', 'Seinfeld', or 'Kojak' knows that Nyawkers gambol nude in fountains during weather like this. While saying vulgar things.

I've got two pairs of socks on.

When I was at a chachanteng having a late lunch earlier, it took half an hour for my fingers to stop being blue. Raynaud's phenomenon.

"Raynaud's (ray-NOHZ) disease causes some areas of your body — such as your fingers and toes — to feel numb and cold in response to cold temperatures or stress. In Raynaud's disease, smaller arteries that supply blood to your skin narrow, limiting blood circulation to affected areas (vasospasm)."

"Women are more likely than men to have Raynaud's disease, also known as Raynaud or Raynaud's phenomenon or syndrome. It appears to be more common in people who live in colder climates."
End cite.

From Mayo Clinic -- Raynaud's Disease.

"[ ] ... it can affect your quality of life."

No sh*t, Sherlock! I had trouble filling my briar pipe properly, and panicked in the men's room when I could not feel the zipper, OR the opening in my boxer shorts. And calling the waitress in for help just is not 'on'.

Fortunately, I possess great self-control and aplomb.

I seriously wonder how she stands the cold.
She had less clothing on than I did.
And she's painfully scrawny.
No insulation at all.

Must be sheer force of will.
Cantonese stubbornness.


Had bitter melon omelette over rice (涼瓜煎蛋飯 'leung gwaa jin daan faan') with sploodges of Sriracha hot sauce while watching a soap opera (人間故事 'yan gaan gu si'). Something sappy about a young man who returns to his home village at the exact time his childhood sweetheart is getting married. Things ensue. The agricultural enterprise of the village appears to involve growing flowers. I never developed much interest in the story; it was very slow, Northern, Chinese, and then badly dubbed into Cantonese.

The childhood sweetheart looked exactly like one of those 'good girl' wussy types. That typical bland propaganda poster prettiness.

After eating I went out and froze.

A gaily hoppity hopping little girl at the bus stop.
And a small boy with a stuffed rabbit.

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