The View From Up Here

It is deceptively pretty outside. That is, until you open the door and the arctic wind whips into your eyeballs and you are blinded by cold, frozen tears. I expected this of you, February, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.

No, I am not talking about the weather just for the sake of (poor) conversation. I am talking about the weather as a metaphor for life. On the outside, looking down on us from, say, the moon, I'm sure the Earth is a very pretty little sphere, all blues and greens and wispy white clouds. You'd have no clue that there were terrible things like poverty or disease or U2. But once you get right up in here, all down on the ground, you become blinded. Mayhap by a cold wind, or mayhap by the general confusion that is day to day life. But unlike Mr. Cold-Ass February and his wicked winds, I love life. It's confusion is part of what makes everything interesting; it keeps possibility and hope bubbling up from strange places.

Those of you who know me know that I'm not usually mopey and I don't ever stay mad for long. It just so happens that every year around February, I get the moody blues and have to snap myself out of it. So basically what I'm trying to say is: this year I don't need to be snapped out of it. Because I have awesome things happening all around me and awesome people to share it with. It's out there- and the Earth looks amazing, even from this girl's little view.