Vanity and vapidity

The laws of living in LA require me to note that while my family and friends in the northeast were getting pummeled with snow, I was sipping sangria outside on Venice Beach on the 79 degree day.

Sorry, kids. Just fulfilling my civic duty.

After a week or two of genuinely cold temperatures, it began warming up on Friday. I noticed when I went outside for lunch, and started sweating through my heavy sweater. Which got me thinking... why are they called "sweaters"? It can't be because they make you sweat - that would not be a selling point. Why aren't they called "warmers"? Or "woolies"? Or something that highlights their best attribute, that they keep you toasty in cold weather? I guess because "toasters" was already taken?

On that note, why do the British call them jumpers? What do sweaters (or, warmers, as I'm going to start calling them) have to do with jumping? I can understand why we (Americans) refer to a certain style of dress as a jumper. At least, when I think of a jumper, I think of what I wore as a four year old, when I was doing a lot of jumping and playing and romping around the room (see also: romper) - there's a certain implication that because they are long enough and heavy enough (my imaginary jumpers are all made of corduroy), one could actually jump in them without the material flying up and exposing the midsection. Of course, this all made sense in my head but was just invalidated with a quick Google search that resulted in this explanation. So, never mind.

Those same deep thoughts continued to occupy my brain as I walked towards my parking garage at the end of the workday. As I passed by the neighborhood diner, I turned to the window to check out my reflection. I was surprised to see a woman a few steps behind me, walking so close in stride, I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed her at my heels. Instinctively, I looked over my shoulder, perhaps to confirm that I should move out of her way. She wasn't there. I looked over my other shoulder; also not there. Confused, I looked back into the window for this invisible ghost woman, and realized that she was not walking behind me at all, but was, in fact, a customer at the diner. She was inside the restaurant.