Wednesday, January 16, 2008


frost macro 1
Originally uploaded by mygothlaundry
There's a blizzard a'comin', oh yes indeedy. I know this because every single person in Asheville is discussing it in hushed tones and, no doubt, flooding all the Ingles in search of toilet paper and milk and white bread. You have to buy white stuff when it's supposed to snow; it's an immutable law. Me, I'm not going to buy any white stuff when I go to the Ingles tonight, even if I do get arrested by the snow police. There are other things more necessary for a Snow Day: I'm going for beer, actually, and cigarettes and hot chocolate mix and I might even make a run to the ABC for some whiskey. You have to be careful though, because I have been burned before by the Non Materializing Blizzard and it's unwise to get plastered the night before the possibility of a real Snow Day, even if the meteorologists are basically falling all over themselves having orgasms about it on the teevee. Nothing sucks more than waking up with a hangover fully expecting ice on the roads and the radio telling you to stay home but instead receiving 55 degrees, sunshine and unpleasantly perky coworkers.

I'm going to the grocery store after I visit my mom, who is fully recovered from her cold and lonely for company. Nevertheless, my mother is worried about the weather and she's worried that I shouldn't come over and then that I shouldn't go to Ingles in case it becomes too dangerous to get home. We have just had a couple of phone conversations about this and I told her that it was probably going to be fine. I don't think the Snow Beasts come out right away; I think it takes like an hour before children start getting devoured and stuff. Anyway the snow isn't supposed to start until way later than I'd be there, which, considering that my mother goes to bed at like 7:30, is not going to be very late.

Actually, I shouldn't laugh, because I also am not immune to snow paranoia and I hate driving in the stuff. I learned to drive in Charleston, SC and the woman who taught me (who was a daring, redheaded, dashing divorcee of some 40 odd years and who, I found out years later, was conducting a torrid affair with one of her high school age students, who I would years later have a torrid affair with myself, that being the nature of Charleston) didn't cover snow and ice. I have firmly resisted all attempts to teach me what to do since, preferring to stay home when it snows. And I intend to, and I'm looking forward to it. And it should actually snow, because I have been wearing my snow globe ring all week, and you just know that has to work. So yay! Snow Day! Let it snow!

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