Santa Fe, NM

Having perpetually cold extremities forces you to think about the weather in a way the curiously glowing people don't. Kind of like how a gal with rose gold undertones might think of her perfect mate as her 35th birthday nears and finds any and every clock useless but her biological one:

My Perfect Weather: Four seasons with no season bolder than the other. Prefer semi-arid climate, but can tolerate humidity. Sunny winters earn brownie points; temperatures below 15 degrees, however -- a deal breaker.

Perfect Mate à la said gal: "You're bright, creative, out-of-the-box thinker who is driven, loyal, fun, well traveled, cultured, adventurous, loving and caring...most importantly you're not produced from a "cookie cutter". (I've also always had a thing for soccer players, but that's negotiable!)"*

There might be hope for our gal considering how in the bowels of winter I felt something I rarely feel, my toes. With my black jacket and the bright sun Georgia O'Keefe couldn't get enough of, it makes sense why I felt like a walking incubator the entire time I was in Santa Fe. And I loved it.

National Parks, NM

Yes, you're noticing a pattern. I resort to my National Park posts when life is obstinate, forgive me. I can't believe I only wrote two posts last month. Two! That's pathetic. I'm trying to make up for it like my sleep. And to continue the candid nature of this conversation I'm having with myself*, I'll tell you how I learned of White Sands National Monument. Umm... I was kind of obsessed with this song when I was fourteen. Oh yes, a lifelong Boyz II Men fan up in this joint.