Waking up Sunday morning to find that it was 27 degrees outside meant turning on the heater for the first time... from bed... with our thermostat app on our phones. While I grew up in a fa-reezing house (as in wearing stocking caps to bed), 58 degrees was a little too chilly. It also meant it was time to bust out the flannel sheets. Does this mean the summer heat is officially over? I think so!
It's funny how our weather preferences and tolerance trace back to our homelands. He's the (half) Filipino who doesn't mind the heat, doesn't sweat much when it's hot out, and tans nicely in the sun. However, when it's cold, his extremities are like icicles. My Irish self, on the other hand? When it's hot out or if I start thinking about heat or hot yoga, I start sweating (thanks, dad). I burn in the shade on an overcast day in March, I'm so pale I'm blue, I prefer cooler, rainy weather, but in the winter, I'm like a space heater.
Here is me and my sweaty self in the Philippines. I shouldn't be allowed in public, I'm embarrassing.
And here's Ehren... not sweating in the Philippines. Oh, and holding a very large, automatic weapon.
We went to the Filipino Association Gala in Kansas City last month, here's us in the fanciest attire we own.
We're watching an episode of Glee as I write this and I just heard the best (and most accurate) quote:
Artie: What is your favorite color?
Brittany: Filipino. They are hard workers and family is very important to them.
I love my brown boy.