You are currently browsing the monthly archive for February 2010.
this morning was one of those mornings where you wake up and wish you did not remember so clearly the events of the previous night. Due to the overwhelming amounts of snow that has fallen in the last few days, I have been homebound with my social interactions existing of text messages, emails, and the exchange of waves and “can you believe this snow” conversation with my various neighbors during shoveling shifts. As such, when I was invited to go to the DL’s place for a power hour last night, I quickly agreed. I filled my college backpack with Miller Lite cans and headed on my way. What I did not think about was the fact that I have not really drank in over a month, I haven’t done a power hour in over ten years, and even during my heyday as a partier, massive consumption of liquids has never been a talent of mine.
Sixty shots of Miller Lite later and I was feeling pretty good. Full, yes. Buzzed, oh yes. But I felt moderately under control. That is, until I wiped out, not once but TWICE on the balcony and sustained serious bodily injury. I have five total bruises on my right leg, one that is approximately the size of my fist. Ouch. These wounds will likely heal, although I am sure it will take some time. What will not heal so quickly is the hits my ego took last night when I basically propositioned one of the DL’s guy friends to “walk me home.” And yes, that was a euphemism. He was simply trying to enjoy his late night Chili Mac when my inebriated self started talking and could not be stopped. And there may have been more than talking. Dang my wandering hands. Even writing this is proving rather painful as I am replaying the unfortunate scene in my head and have to stop to cover my eyes. I am hopeful he is a nice enough guy to keep this to himself. I mean, he should be flattered that I blatantly came on to him. Or at least, that’s the story I am sticking to.
and the power lines outside my house look mighty frail under all that snow currently piled on. I can handle the snow panic, I can handle the grocery stores running out of food, I can EVEN handle being home-bound for multiple days…but what I cannot handle is being home-bound in the dark.
This is a little embarrassing for a girl in her thirties, but I sleep with a night light on. And a fan. Both of these items are crucial to my achieving a good (or at least passable) night’s sleep. My first night in a new place inevitably involves a lot of tossing and turning as I really do rely on my night light and fan. I think part of my reliance on the night light is the fact that I have atrocious vision and waking up in complete darkness is pretty terrifying when you can barely make out the outline of your own hand.
I guess it should be noted as progress that I no longer sleep with a retainer. So, all things considered, it could be worse. I’ll take that.
it looks like yet another significant snowstorm is heading to my city this weekend. The weather folks have been throwing about words like “crippling” and “potentially paralyzing.” There is even a rumor going around that the goverment is not being honest with us about the expected accumulation as it would cause mass hysteria. Because the people around here are simply incapable of managing precipitation that falls from the sky. Especially the white stuff.
Case in point: before the First Snowpocalypse back in December, I made the mistake of going to the grocery store the night before the storm hit. I really wanted to make cookies and needed the supplies, so I braced myself for long lines and barren shelves. I chuckled to myself as I walked around, noting that in true DC style, my fellow shoppers had just about exhausted the store’s supply of toilet paper and bread. I picked up my bittersweet chocolate, butter, and eggs and headed to the checkout line. Of course, I had picked up some completely unnecessary items along but that’s to be expected when surrounded by paranoid people.
While at the checkout line, I actually couldn’t stop myself from audibly laughing as the lines grew longer and I saw the panic on everyone’s faces. People were shopping with determination, talking furiously on their cell phones, and frantically consulting lists. The woman behind me must have noticed my amusement as she asked if this was my first snowstorm in DC.
“Oh, no. I’ve lived here for almost ten years, but I am from New Jersey so I am just not sure what the fuss is all about. It is just a little snow.”
She narrowed her eyes and reminded me, “They are calling for close to two feet.”
I shrugged, “yes, I heard.”
She then looked at me, right in the eyes, and said “They could run out of food.”
I blinked. Slightly befuddled and amused.
She continued, “The stores. They could run out of food. And there would be so much snow, that the trucks with more food wouldn’t get through. We could run out of food.”
I politely, but firmly, informed her that such a scenario was highly unlikely and turned me back on her. Part of me wanted to burst out laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of her fears, but another part of me wondered where her fears came from. I mean, look at all that the people in Haiti have endured since the earthquake. And in this society of mass consumption, all these crazy people overbuy at the mere mention of a few inches of snow that, at the end of the day, will simply cause us some minor inconveniences and maybe a severe case of cabin fever.
I am too tired to head down that road and will simply settle for laughing at the mass hysteria, even if it results in way more snow than I ever want to see pile up on my super long driveway.
…may be the root of all problems between men and women.
Today, S got sworn in as a lawyer in his new state. I txted this morning, “Happy Swearing In Day!”, but received no response. I was not all that happy that my sentiments were not acknowledged – S always writes back, ALWAYS, he is nice and consistent like that. I figured he was busy as last night I got a text apologizing for not being in touch as his transition was turning out to be not so seamless.
Then tonight, I got a facebook chat (S is a recent joiner of FB, and let’s just say he is taking to it quite well) from him saying he sent me a Blackberry message this morning, which, of course, I never got. We then exchanged a few typical banter-type comments and he declared he was heading for bed.
It is too much technology! I mean, I am not a fan of the phone, so I am happy to accept other options…but between emails, text messages, BlackBerry messages, gchats, and now Facebook-chat…trying to keep up with it all is just exhausting.
