...because of heated seats {M Com Blog #2}

^^^People of the internet (lest ye be deceived), I don’t actually hate winter.  It provides many recreational activities I enjoy: skiing, snowshoeing, sledding, seeing dumb girls in Uggs—their supposedly snow-appropriate footwear—fall all over campus.  Plus, what is more beautiful than flocked trees in winter? Nothing.  I also enjoy fireplaces and hot chocolate. (Cue end of tangent.)^^^

Utah has this thing called winter.  And despite 17 years of peaceful coexistence between winter and myself, our relationship, as of late, is looking a little rocky.  Winter has turned cold, and I’m not okay with it.

 There is, however, one saving grace in our relationship: heated seats.

I love them.  Winter isn’t official until you use your heated seats.  Now, not all seat heaters are created equal.  My mom’s car, for example, has separate heat controls for the bottom of the seat vs. the back, three heat levels, but no heaters in the back row (lame!).  My dad’s car has heated seats in the back (bonus!), but for some reason the back seats only have 2 heat levels while the front and passenger seats get 3.  My brother’s car has 5 varying levels of heat.

My car?  The fact that it even has heated seats is a wonder.  I mean, who puts a winter package on a convertible?  (Apparently, grandpa does.)

Anyway, when it comes to all other aspects of winter drivability, my car is found lacking.  Convertibles just aren’t winter cars. 

Story: Once upon a time my car got stuck in the middle of a parking lot on the way to church.  The parking lot had a row of cars on each side and a single lane through the middle.  In the center of said lane were frozen tire ruts where the back wheels of my car decided to get stuck.  We had to get out and push. It had snowed that morning, and the iced-over parking lot had a skiff of snow on top making it extra slick. Oh, and we were in heels.  Extra slippy lot + heels = total joke.  Luckily two Tongans showed up and helped us out.

Another story: The first storm of this season brought about 6 inches of snow to Provo.  I went out that morning to where I had parked and spent several minutes clearing my car and numbing my hands, only to notice the big wall of snow from the plow that my car would never get through.   I got to walk to the corner grocery store instead.

Point: My car doesn’t do snow.  Thankfully, I have a parking spot in the garage this semester.

Now, there are perks to driving a convertible.  I can park in tight spots, it’s an automatic self-esteem boost (everyone I drive past checks me out…I know it’s the car, but I can pretend), and I drive it for free!  I happily mooch off my parents’ generosity.  But as discussed, snow is its kryptonite.

So little red, thank you for at least having heated seats.  I think I can handle the freezing temps, nasty inversions, and inexperienced winter drivers as long as my rump stays roasted.  

It’s the little luxuries, right?

xoxo!