rain and wind

Why is it that the two always seem to go together? Believe me, I'm umbrella-challenged enough, and fighting to ensure that it doesn't turn inside out half the time doesn't make the experience any more pleasant. And why is it that no matter how I carry it, a part of me always gets wet anyway? Sigh. Other people don't seem to have this problem, so obviously I wasn't paying attention to the how-to-use-an-umbrella-properly lessons. Lessons which I don't even recall getting.

The worst part though is the muddy splatters I get on the back of my leg. The right leg, to be exact. How is it that I only get splatters on the one side? What's wrong with the way I walk? Then again, do I really want to know? I've heard before that I walk like my mom, but apparently, that wasn't a compliment. Snort. Speaking of mom, even though she happened to live in Holland when I was born (we immigrated to Canada when I was seven), my genetic code doesn't appear to carry the very handy enjoys-damp-weather gene, as you would think it might. And for that reason alone, you won't ever find me living in the lovely city of Vancouver (an apology to all Vancouverites), or in any other wet place for that matter.

But getting back to the umbrella, I also don't know umbrella etiquette. What do you do with said apparatus in certain locations once you come in from the rain? I never know for sure on the bus whether to hold it in my hand and let it drip, put it on the floor even though the floor is usually dirty, or put it in the seat beside me. And what about the grocery store? I don't like putting it in my basket because it takes up too much room and gets everything wet, but apart from awkwardly carrying it again, I don't know what else to do with it. Yes, sadly enough, even though I consider myself quite bright in most ways, when it comes to simple things that everybody else seems to have under control, well, that's just a different story.

Nope, rain is not my friend. Ever. (Although my tulip sure looks like it could use some.) And when rain and wind become co-conspirators, the battle is over before I can even put my coat on. Excuse me please, while I go and see if I can at least win the war of getting the finally dry umbrella back in its case. Snort.