Me: God, I love the rain.
Mother: Because you can be a slob and act lazy.
Me: These are a few of my favorite things.
Call me a cockeyed optimist, but I love nothing more than a long, rainy sabbatical in the South. There’s just something sultry about droopy trees, streets as slick as glazed doughnuts, porch-sitting and all of the excuses for reclusiveness being given a hall pass during a particularly elongated downfall. Blame it on my dark side, but rain brings out the me in me. You may not think it’s my best side, but, hey, nobody would know Kurt Cobain’s name if the Pacific Northwest were on the equator.
Wallowing in your Wellies may look pretentious when it’s 98 in the shade, but come a good rainstorm you can rock your rubbers in everything from a business suit to Daisy Dukes without batting a waterproof mascara’d eyelash — or looking like a Kate Moss wannabe. The “Ladies of London” may splash through the streets in stilettos, but in the dirty South we know that red mud does not make the heel grow fonder.
While your pups may be sensitive to the exacerbated noise levels that rain brings to their alert ear canals, they also revel in the extra indoor attention given to them when it’s pouring. Mine also get burritos because, hey, it’s a lot easier to go through the drive thru at Taco Bell than park and walk to PetSmart.
So your house smells like dog pee and moldy Gore-Tex, so what? You probably won’t be getting too many visitors anyway and if you do you can always blame your disgusting home on the rain.
Lochs of love
Haters of blow-dryers rejoice. This is just about the only time of the year, other than seaside or post swim practice, that you can get away with running around town looking like a wet rat.
Rainy days and Mondays
Like depressing music? Then this is your time to shine! Crank up that Cat Power! Rehash that Radiohead! Blast that Bon Iver! Nuke that Neko Case! Totally eclipse your heart with some Sun Kil Moon or Joy Division! Whatever you play, don’t forget the classics to slit your wrists by and The Song Remains the Same.
Craving a hot toddy, a midday IPA or a glass of vino to wash away the afternoon? No worries. It’s perfectly acceptable to day-drink during a torrent. Just be sure to day-drink responsibly. Uber drivers are easier to come by than taxis during the rain.
Hate close talkers? Then this is your kind of weather. No worries about Halitosis Hal breathing down your nostrils or Salivating Sally expectorating all over you in a downpour. The umbrella ensures that they will keep their distance, and remember, the bigger the brolly, the bigger the distance.
Small talk takes a walk
If you despise making niceties, stopping to catch up or otherwise spewing trite pleasantries, then welcome to a rain-in. The best excuse in the world for not being nice to people is getting out of the rain. Just don’t be a sucker and get pulled under an awning or into a coffee shop or another chatty sort of establishment with a shut-in who is dying to use up all of those words they’ve been hoarding during the storm. You may never go out again.
Hoodies without Borders
Love wearing a hoodie but afraid of getting shot by a cop? Then this is your time. Perhaps one of the rare windows of opportunity for completely hiding your head unless you are a devout Muslim woman, rainy season is particularly amenable to the lover of the popped hoodie.
Rain is sexy
Just about every major love scene in every romantic comedy is either precluded by a rain scene or actually takes place in the rain. If you don’t believe me, check your Nicholas Sparks. Personally, I have particularly fond memories of Sigourney Weaver and Mel Gibson getting doused in The Year of Living Dangerously, but that’s just a matter of taste. The bottom line is that getting wet strips us down to the basics, it baptizes us to be born again and sometimes it takes a little death for that to happen. Hey, they don’t call ’em sheets for nothin.’