An Open Letter to the State of Utah

Dear Utah,

I hate your guts, and I hope you die.

Love,
Matt

You see, blogosphere, I feel a little betrayed by Utah, a little toyed with. How many times does it have to warm up to 65 degrees and then Utah pulls the rug out. How many false starts to spring must we endure. It was back in February when it first hit the sixties. Then it dipped back down, but I was like, "It is February. We'll let it slide."

And we would've except we had to suffer through a false warming about every 10-14 days. When it was warm, we'd take Jane outside. We all seemed to be kinder to each other. I started snapping photos like this:I liked the colors in the photo, but when I showed it to Ella she said, "I mean it's nice, but it looks like a calendar photo. Here's May." Deep down I knew she was right, but I wanted to hear her lie.

Of course the weather would tank, sometimes overnight, and then I'd get pictures like this:See the confusion in Jane's eyes as the wind whips her hair against her temple. (Someday, if we're lucky, it might be long enough to whip against her cheek.) If her vocabulary was better she would be thinking to herself, "Today is March 22. Spring began two days ago. Why are the elements combining against me?" Since she's two, she thought, "Windy. No like it."

Well that wind blew in a little cold front, and here's Jane four days later, chewing on some dirty snow from the bumper of the car. After I took a few pictures, I told her she shouldn't eat dirty snow:
Jane's a kid. Kid's are resilient, and she warmed up to the cold:
I didn't. On went the cycle. Utah loves me. Utah loves me not. Utah loves me. Utah loves me not. I can't handle the swings. Here's a photo I took in March, just before the dirty snow landed on the bumper:Ella never commented on this one, but if she did, she'd probably ask me if I cut it out from April in a State Farm agent's handout calendar. So this evening, I thought I'd see how those little purple bud thingies are doing now:See, Utah. You think your little caprices don't hurt anyone else, but they do.

What could so wither those little bud thingies? The aforementioned weather swings, of course, but specifically the latest cruel joke played by Utah. Check out this photo from this past Thursday, April 16th:What an absolute joke. Utah, give me my money back. Take a good look at Jane's expression. Do you see it? Gone is the innocence of childhood. She only sees a life of hardship and pain. At her funeral in 2101, they'll say, "But her heart died when she was two."

The ten-day forecast shows us in the seventies next week. But whatever, Utah. I'm done. I'm done with you and your cruel manipulation of my emotions. I don't believe you. I don't think it will ever warm up again. Turn your back on Utah, Jane. Don't let Utah play with your heart. Walk away.