Can I Stay Here With You Till the Morning?

Yesterday I was chagrined to realize that I only updated this blog three times in February. I thought I'd been doing better than that, but work took up so much of my time and energy that I didn't have the mental wherewithal to collect my thoughts into coherent mumblings. So I'm trying to do better this month, though work is still pretty all-consuming. (Hey, this is post number 2 for March, so I'm already 2/3 of the way to matching February, and we're only a week in!)

It feels bitterly cold outside, though it's not actually all that cold. It is incredibly windy, though, so the cold feels like it's cutting through to your bones. I went out to meet up with my friend at Trident for brunch, and had a good time hanging out with him. I'm a bad friend and don't hang out with him often enough. I also picked up the Collected Poems of Jane Kenyon, so I'm excited about that. I don't know what my problem is with trying to get back into writing, but I can't seem to kick start my brain or get myself to any of the poetic events or workshops in the Boston area.

I can't wait for spring. It's a bright, sunny day despite the cold and the wind, and I want to be outside and not cooped up in a scarf and fingerless gloves. I'm ready to put the sweaters away!

Oh say say say Oh say say say Oh say say say

I am so sick of being sick. The most frustrating thing is that the symptoms are fairly mild in and of themselves, but they combine to leave me weak, tired, and dizzy. Huzzah. I think I'm over the hump of the illness, but it would be nice to be 100% again. Maybe my Rock Band performance will improve once I'm healthy! (I don't have a problem. I can stop any time I want.)

I'm at work after 5 again, because I have a physical therapy appointment for my ankle (which, the perceptive among you will remember I sprained back around Halloween. And it's still bothering me--today it hurt to walk on it). But rather than cross anything off my massive to-do list, I'm posting here. I'm also sick of my massive to-do list that never gets shorter, only longer.

But yesterday, I left work at 5, and it was still light out. I, the tone-deaf wonder, sang two songs on hard in Rock Band last night. My friend sent me the January 7th page from the New Yorker daily calendar because it has penguins. It's the little things.

obligatory holiday post

Happy Winter Seasonal Holiday of Your Choice!

You are being spared the rant I was fuming over last night about NORAD's Santa tracker and blatant propaganda and so on. But, there are many more important things to get angry about, and more appropriate occasions.

I hope you enjoy your holiday, whether or not you celebrate Christmas.

If It Snowed Cats And Dogs, That Would Hurt. A Lot.

It is, you are no doubt aware, pissing down snow on Boston, and has been since about 1 pm this afternoon. I left work a little early as a result--I'm mostly glad that I beat the rush, though I wonder how many T-riders really stayed it out?

Snow generally turns me into a huge Grinch. There is something about the gray sky, the cold, the wet AND cold things that are coating my jacket and sneaking into my shoes, the need to shovel, the ice, the salt, the--you get the picture--that just makes me absolutely Grumpy. Granted, I can sympathize with Grumpy Bear, the Grinch, and Squidward on the best of days. But snow? Forget it. I just want to crawl into my bed and give everyone the finger until the snow has melted.

No, I don't know why I moved back to Boston either.



But when it's snowing this hard? When a New England city practically shuts down in the face of the rapid accumulation (we're getting 1"-3" an hour)? It does get pretty. And I like the reminder that Nature can kick our asses any time it wants, and there's not much we can do about it, all our technology aside.

Touché, snow. Well-played.