Spotty sprinkling

I've been interested in the weather since I was flipping through a magazine for kids and read an article about the different kinds of clouds.

That interest hasn't gone anywhere. It's just gotten more developed, speculative and superstitious.

For example, I check the weather report every day. In a place with as wild of weather as Tucson, I want to have some idea of what I face outdoors each day.

I try to guess whether or not those dark clouds mean rain or shade, whether or not that fuzzy horizon is rain or just low-lying clouds, and whether or not the wind is coming from the south or the east.

But the superstition part is the best. If I take an umbrella with me on a cloudy day, the clouds are gone in 15 minutes. If I leave my umbrella at home, I end up walking to my car in a downpour. If it's November and looks cold out, I wear a sweater, I end up sweating profusely. If it's November and looks warm out, I wear a t-shirt and find my teeth chattering everywhere I go. And when I try to circumvent said instances, the weather circumvents me.

Ridiculous, right?

So there were massive patches of clouds hovering around Tucson for the past week and a half. They promised rain, they even rained all over the mountains and the foothills. And then they disappeared, just when it looked like the storm was ready to hit Tucson.

They teased me with sprinkling--five minutes, it starts to like like all hell's going to break loose, and then the sun comes out and the clouds float away.

Whatever happened to the glorious monsoon season of my youth, when the clouds would descend every afternoon, pour heavy rains for at least half an hour, and then hover for a few hours before drifting off until the next day.

Even last summer those mountain storms were bound to head straight for my apartment complex, flooding the parking lot and leaving a trail of sticky humidity in their stead.

Instead, all I'm getting this summer is seductive sprinkling that leaves me sweaty in the sunny humidity.

And yet, I still look at the weather report, hoping that 20 percent chance of showers is really going to amount to something.

I should know better by now. In Tucson, it's a fat chance.

SNOW!!!

Ok, so it's not snow. Not really. Not all of it, anyway.

I woke up this morning to discover my car was white. Not with frost as Ian insisted, but chunky, cold, white, glorious, gleaming snow.

Granted, it was gone by 8:30 am, but I was super excited anyway.

Based on my previous calculations, it should be 70 degrees this week. But it was cold enough to snow last night, it's been rainy and chilly. And you know what? The forecast calls for "bermuda shorts weather" this weekend.

PROOF! Proof that the weather in Tucson really is on acid.

Cruel, cruel weather

January and February in Arizona: schizophrenic.

Anyone from anywhere else would wonder how I can possibly compare the first months of the year with a mental illness. It's really quite simple.

First week of January: 60s
Second week of January: 70s
Third week of January: 65
Fourth week of January: 40s
First week of February: 55
Second week of February: 70s (my prediction)

That's the temperature, rising up and down, back and forth, all over the place.

Not only is the temperature wild and crazy, but so is the weather. Rain, sun, rain, sun, clouds, clouds, sun, rain, sun, clouds, Snow. You can never be prepared for anything--you never know what the day will end with.

And what's worse, is if you go shopping, store displays are just there to rub it in. Going shopping the second week of January, all the winter stuff is on clearance. Blah, you think, too hot for this stuff.
Going shopping the next week, there are shorts and t-shirts everywhere. Geez, you think, shivering in a sweater, jacket and three shirts, isn't it a bit cold for shorts?

And the worst part? It doesn't get any better after February--the weather's loony here 12 months a year.

That's what I hate about Arizona. The weather's unstable and I never know what to wear. If I complain that it's too cold, it's because it was 90 degrees yesterday and I'm wearing a t-shirt--and it's 55 degrees today. If I complain it's too hot, it's probably because it was 32 degrees and rainy this morning, so I decided to wear a sweater and rain jacket to work. And it's after work, sunny and a humid 85 degrees.

If you want reliable weather...if you always want to be prepared by wearing the right thing...Arizona is not the place for you.