Windshield factor

My life is like a weather report. Often broadcasted, occasionally forecasted and frequently not as predicted.

With the exception of the few weeks I spent at home in December, the majority of my time is not spent at the address where my mail is sent. Thus, when I am at home, I should be doing laundry, dusting my pendant lights and figuring out a way to film my bird penthouse. What I should do and what I actually do are not always the same – much like weather reports and actual weather.

This evening, I planned to do housework, however, was pleasantly surprised by the request of La La Lovely and On My Terms to come by for drinks. The 50% chance that I might get my housework done just became partly cloudy. Being that most of my clothes were dirty, my attire for the evening was a silk, spaghetti strap top, pink hot pants, a burgundy robe and black fuzzy slipper boots. Needless to say, the ladies were proper impressed. “Sexy,” La La Lovely replied.

On My Terms was also quite impressed, so much so, she invited me to join her on the stoop for a cigarette. Being that I was in my ‘smoking jacket’ (the term That’s Not Chinese uses synonymously with ‘robe’), I figured I was destined to secondhand stoop. “Your neighbors don’t mind seeing you like this?” On My Terms asked. “I’m sure my neighbors have been exposed to more than they could ever imagine thanks to my friends and I,” I replied. La La Lovely peered through the door, contemplating joining us. “Don’t do it. The windshield factor is bad,” On My Terms advised her and then said to me, “It wasn’t until a few years ago that I learned it was wind chill factor and not windshield factor.” “Makes sense. A cold wind could impact your windshield,” I replied. Windshield. Wind chill. Smoking jacket. Robe. Tomato. Toe-mah-toe.