confessions of a hygge skeptic
how i am trying to befriend winter this year
Two quick notes:
From now until Halloween, a yearly subscription is on sale for $60
Do you know what I really miss?
Winter in Southern California. My early 20s were the last time I remember winter actually feeling magical. Walking back to my dorm with a hot chocolate chip cookie and a piping hot Tazo tea, switching which hand I’d hold the cup with so my fingers wouldn’t burn. Shivering in my maroon and white striped Brandy Melville sweater. Losing my pom pom beanie in the dark parking lot of Moodaepo Rowland Heights. The smell of Korean BBQ and sesame oil clinging to the car seats. Driving home from work down Temple Street, placing my hand directly on the heater vent at red lights and stop signs. The artificial warmth of neon lights from hamburger joints, churches, dispensaries, 7-11s, gas stations. Christmas lights on saguaro cacti. I just remember winter feeling less onerous.
The year I moved back to Northern California, I felt cheated when winter hit.