Weather.com has become my cyber BFF. As a mother needing to fill lots of time, I need to know the atmospheric 411 so that we properly exploit whichever free entertainment fits the bill. Oprah recently did a show following The "Coupon Queen" as she feverishly searched Sunday papers and online sources for hidden discounts. When our weather becomes questionable, I often find myself fervently hitting weather.com like that crazed bargain bitch, trying to get a one up on the forecast and hence ahead of the curve on my daily and weekly mommying entertainment picks.
You'd think living in San Diego would make this a mute point, since 9 out of 10 days are seemingly 72º and sunny. But not so in the winter. There's a very fine line between a day that can or cannot be spent at the playground for $0 and zero clean up (my favorite) when weird things like the Santa Ana winds or even weirder things like rain or clouds visit our idyllic Pleasantville.
But ironically and pathetically enough, I have to disclose that one of my favorite things about convening with weather.com is seeing how many times it changes its mind about what the sky is going to bring. I'll go there on Sunday night and click on the 10 day forecast to get my Type A planning and scheduling jollies off. It'll say Monday sunny & 70º, Tuesday sunny & 70º, Wednesday sunny & 71º, Thursday sunny & 72º, Friday sunny & 70º, Saturday rainy & 63º, Sunday rainy & 64º, Monday sunny & 69º, Tuesday sunny & 71º, Wednesday sunny & 72º, and I'll think pointlessly to myself, "Cool, I've got a handle on the weather situation." Then I'll compulsively check it again on Monday morning to find everything has shifted so that the rainy days now fall a couple of days later, pushing out of the weekend when I could have counted on my husband to help me with the indoor time and back into my weekday territory. Then I'll obsessively continue checking all throughout the week to see how many times they change their minds about when the hell that weather is actually going to come. You see, here in San Diego, we all say the same thing when a cloud comes strolling by or it actually rains a drop or two: "Oh my god, we're actually getting weather."
The most ridiculous thing about all of this is that even our "worst" weather is a cake walk compared to most other parts of the country. Especially where I hale from: Ohio. I'll be chatting it up with my dad on a Sunday afternoon in January sitting on my porch in a tank top while he's trying to free his door from the hanging stalactites of ice threatening to pull down his gutter. But it is exactly this man, my beloved father, who planted the seeds of weather.com addiction within me. He is consumed with the intricacies of weather features and geological functions and could fill up an entire 10 minute father-daughter check in with talk of pressure fronts, temperature averages, weather trends, water tables and humidity indexes.
For now thank god my rapport with weather.com is sweet and to the point. Tell me my crystal ball, is it gonna be the playground or the library tomorrow?