OK, here's that photo

That's how cold it is.
--
Or, was. It's balmy now. I can't wait to go skating on the river.

Chilly beach

Yesterday, a man told me that it was colder in One Great City! than at either of the poles.

People are very funny here. They really like to talk about the weather in a way that indicates they are surprised by it, as though it is totally unexpected or out of character for this part of the world to be this frigid. Then they don't wear a toque. What is up with not wearing a toque?

I have a very funny picture to post which I have yet to take. I am going to put the camera in my bag and take said photo tomorrow at work. Stay tuned.

Our song

B and I are going to get married. We have been doing some planning around this. Activities are unfolding not in sequence but in overlapping layers, so that bits of things get done but the bulk piles high and nothing is completed to the point of being crossed off the list - and you know how I feel about that.

The latest dilemma is trying to pick a song to do the whole first dance thing. This is not my idea! B is the one married to that. (And I'm funny.)

We don't have 'A Song'. B has been scouring various sources for inspiration and each idea he presents I toss aside as sentimental or 'done' or just a lame song. Recently he suggested a bossa nova version of 'Night and Day'. 'Night and Day' is not a love song in the way that 'Every Breath You Take' is not a love song. Not that I think we should do a love song. In fact, I'd rather not. But an obsession song would be worse.

Still, it inspired me to search the various versions of 'Night and Day' recorded through the ages. There are many. I actually really like U2's version because, even though it sounds a little dated now, it really nails the crazy desperation, the anguish, the 'torment'. It doesn't disguise itself as a peppy, harmless little ditty. It sounds sinister. Then there's Billie Holiday's version. There's a sorrow to everything she sings, which makes perfect sense.

Really though, something about prancing around in front of my parents to the tune of 'let me spend my life making love to you' just does not wash with me. Sex and my parents occupy two totally different worlds and I'm okay with this situation remaining as-is.

--

I wrote that a week or so ago. I have been singing 'Night and Day' on my way to work ever since, but I am no closer to wanting to dance to it whilst near the parents. But neither is B, who has moved on to other bossa nova options.