L.A.'s Other Season

First of all: I KNOW. I know that Californians (well, Southern Californians) shouldn't whine about weather because WE DON'T HAVE ANY. But once you're acclimated to the climate, you complain. I grew up here, have lived in some part of California since I was three, so I'm pretty much a native with the thin, non-weather-proof skin that covers most of us out here.

I have always said that L.A. has only two seasons: spring and summer.

I used to think that we only have autumn and summer until I went to London and realized that HEY, they're calling it "spring" weather and I think it's totally frigid! Perhaps I don't know what autumn is if "spring" is this icy!

So the months from about November to about May are what I consider "spring." It gets slightly colder in December/January, to what I call "winter" but non-Californians call "a brisk fall day." People, if it's cold enough for a coat in L.A., I'm allowed to call it winter.

This April started out quite cold and chilly, abnormally so. It was gusty and drafty last week, and I kept having to bundle up with scarves and jackets. When I left work, anywhere between 9:00 p.m. and 2:00 a.m., the temperature usually hovered in the 50's. Cold.

Then yesterday (Sunday) hit like a crazed, rabid pit bull. It was NINETY-EIGHT DEGREES. I almost melted into a puddle.

Let's be clear. I don't enjoy summer. But I am used to it, and I know how to deal with it (I work crazy hours in a climate-controlled building and never see the sun). HOWEVER. When 100-degree weather follows 50-degree weather, I get physically sick. My body cannot deal with the sudden shift in temperature. I think I'm half-reptilian, because I can't adjust to sudden jumps or drops, anything more than 15 degrees. I can't do it.

Because L.A.'s other season has decided to pop out of a jack-in-the-box and scare the bloody daylights out of me, I am now sick. In what is supposed to be 95-degree weather today.

Ugh.