You call that a cold front?!?!?

Most people don't realize it, but there's a vast difference between western and eastern Washington State. If you think back to fifth grade science, you might remember learning something about rain shadows. A rain shadow happens when the clouds are too fat and lazy to climb up the mountains and rain on the other side of them. Or something like that. I don't know, I was too busy staring at boys to pay attention in science.

Anyway, eastern Washington sits in a rain shadow, and this makes it hot and dry in the summer, and colder than a witch's tit in the winter. (And yes, witch's tit is a technical term. Especially if it's in a brass bra. Ask my mother.)

I grew up in those extreme temperatures, so it wasn't unusual for me to go trick-or-treating wearing my costume, a jacket, a fur coat, my snow boots, a scarf, a hat, two pairs of gloves, and a hot water bottle. We'd run around the block as fast as we could, banging on doors, mumbling "Trick-or-treat" very quietly (because, of course, our lips were frozen together), and racing home as soon as possible to drink hot cocoa and count our five pieces of candy.

Western Washington, however, is a little different. You hope it doesn't rain. If it does, you bring an umbrella. That's it.

I just checked the weather forecast for the area, and they have posted a "SEVERE WEATHER ALERT." Well, of course, I clicked on this weather alert because if the 40-year flood is coming, I want to know about it so I can build an ark. (Or make hubby build an ark because all I would do is smash my fingers with the hammer.)

Anyway, so I check this weather alert only to see that we're expecting a major cold front this weekend. Our lows might get down to, like, 30 degrees.

Shoot. I've run down the street naked in colder weather than that. (Truth or Dare. Don't ask.)

In eastern Washington, they'd call that forecast a warm front. And then they'd laugh their asses off.

It's like the time I was driving down the road listening to the news on the radio. The newsman was talking about some graffiti that had been found downtown, and he announced that the police were asking citizens to call in if they saw anyone suspicious walking around with a can of spray paint. I laughed so hard, I almost side-swiped a Buick.

If I called the police over a guy carrying a can of spray paint in my home town, they'd threaten to arrest me for being a dumbass.

Maybe those extreme temperatures increase the crime rate. I don't know. All I know is it's a completely different world over here, and I'm still getting used to its eccentricities.