This was a pretty damn good weekend, despite not doing much.
Yesterday, the SJC and I tried a different place for brunch, the Expresso Cafe, and boy were we disappointed. It was a throw back to the rip-off days of the Celtic Tiger and my french toast was so sickly sweet, it hurt my teeth. Ouch. Also, my cranberry juice tasted like a swimming pool. I guess the lesson here is that Herbstreet is the ultimate, and can never be defeated. A tough lesson to learn, but learned well.
Sure it may have rained on us when we walked to Tesco, but it was nothing compared to the high drama inside Tesco and then, outside Tesco. While we were checking out, we could hear an argument building in the check out line. Apparently an older woman tapped a middle-aged man on his shoulder to inform him that he'd cut in line.
"I assure you, madame, that I did not see you. I'm a perfect gentleman, I wouldn't have done that if I had seen you in line."
Then she said something. And he responded, "Oh so you're playing the woman card now, are you?" At that point, our feet were almost out the door, but talk about a classic line.
Who calls them self a 'Perfect Gentleman' and then accuses an older woman of playing the woman card? Probably not a perfect gentleman. Then, not five seconds later, walking up Baggot St, we witnessed an irate Mercedes driver blocking a Saab into live-parking in a handicap parking spot. Then the Mercedes guy jumped out of his car and started banging on the window of the Saab calling the guy an asshole. Talk about an amazing few minutes on Baggot St! I had no idea what caused this, but I never wanted to leave!
We got back to the apartment in time for Ireland vs Scotland in Six Nations. The first time Ireland scored, I yelled, 'WE DID IT!' and started clapping. The SJC did not appreciate this for the following reasons: 1) I'm not from Ireland and 2) I'm not on the team. Funnily enough, those are exactly the two reasons why I did start shouting and cheering on the team. Then he called me a jinx. So when the scored again, I started cheering again. And wouldn't you know, Ireland won. So, congratulations, Ireland! WE DID IT! We gave it 110%! Well done, my team! Who's the jinx now?
The rest of the day was spent lounging, watching 'Inception' and 'The Good Guys' and discussing our plans for the big move across the Atlantic.
All in all, a great weekend.
(Except I bought pomegranate juice for a change and I'm not sure about it.)
Monday, February 28, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Just Me?
Am I the only one who, when eating carrots, sings 'Night Fever' by the Bee Gees but sings it as, 'Night Vision?' Just wondering.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Keeping Me Flush With PB&J
Today, my guardian angel and I went to lunch. She gave me the gift of Jif, therefore keeping me flush with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and therefore making me a very happy lady.
You see, if there was ever a world without peanut butter in it, by George, I wouldn't want to live there. Like if they discovered Earth 2.0 and it had everything the Original Earth had, except for peanut butter, I would take a pass and stick with the Original Earth. Then all those suckers with peanut allergies could live freely and talk about what I imagine people with peanut allergies talk about: How much their life sucks because they can't have peanut butter.
No offense to people with peanut allergies, but I'd probably kill myself. Lactose intolerance I can deal with, because of rice milk, but not being able to enjoy a PB&J? Or even a Fluffernutter sandwich? Your world seems pretty bleak.
This is a great day. My cupboard is stocked with peanut butter. The trouble is, I have some Skippy left before I can dive into my Jif, and do you even know the difference between Skippy and Jif? It's like night and day. I suppose I could become a Skippy fan if I had never had Jif in my life, but alas, we were raised on Jif, and it's rich peanut butter goodness is like a call from home. Or like a hug from a giant bear who won't eat you.
And don't get me started on Teddie!!! That shit is the BUSINESS.
In conclusion, I like peanut butter. So, thank you Kim!
You see, if there was ever a world without peanut butter in it, by George, I wouldn't want to live there. Like if they discovered Earth 2.0 and it had everything the Original Earth had, except for peanut butter, I would take a pass and stick with the Original Earth. Then all those suckers with peanut allergies could live freely and talk about what I imagine people with peanut allergies talk about: How much their life sucks because they can't have peanut butter.
No offense to people with peanut allergies, but I'd probably kill myself. Lactose intolerance I can deal with, because of rice milk, but not being able to enjoy a PB&J? Or even a Fluffernutter sandwich? Your world seems pretty bleak.
This is a great day. My cupboard is stocked with peanut butter. The trouble is, I have some Skippy left before I can dive into my Jif, and do you even know the difference between Skippy and Jif? It's like night and day. I suppose I could become a Skippy fan if I had never had Jif in my life, but alas, we were raised on Jif, and it's rich peanut butter goodness is like a call from home. Or like a hug from a giant bear who won't eat you.
And don't get me started on Teddie!!! That shit is the BUSINESS.
In conclusion, I like peanut butter. So, thank you Kim!
Monday, February 21, 2011
A Huge Birthday Weekend
Yesterday, my little sister, the aptly nicknamed Smalls, turned 30. Mom was there to celebrate with her in Chicago. I got to chat with Smalls last night for a bit, catching up on the haps and giving her excellent prompts just in case (and this would never happen) the conversation between my Mom and her goes stale.
I'm good at prompts. Basically they're all jumping off points for going on long tirades, something I really enjoy doing but don't do often. Like having an ice cream sundae - it's a treat, but not one you should have every day. Or even every week. I suppose one could say the aftermath of being raised in a Puritanical area and having relatives survive the Great Depression can rear it's ugly head once in awhile. We never had dessert after dinner, ever. Not even on Sundays. Maybe the lesson here was moderation? Who's to say - I'm just rambling now.
With Smalls turning 30 on Sunday and the SJC turning 31 on Saturday, there was a lot of birthday bonanza extravaganza activities going around. The SJC really cleaned up on travel guides, which is right up his alley. He even got a special birthday cake. It was a coffee cake, and no, it's not the same as the coffee cake that Americans are familiar with.
I've heard horror stories about this coffee cake, mainly that it's repulsive. I thought, 'It can't be that bad.' Except then I heard it had walnuts on it and I thought, 'Gross.' However, this year it was made with chocolate and, hand to God, it was delightful. It was coffee flavored cake with chocolate icing. Brillz.
The weekend in the Wild West was standard - great food, good sleeps, plenty of relaxation time. I love going to Sligo and am a little bit sad that our next trip won't be until April.
Smalls, I hope you had a good birthday. Enjoy watching your greatest present, the DVD of the FutureSex/LoveSounds tour (J.Tim, for anyone wondering). See you next year for your 31st!
Smalls and me on Catalina Island, 2006.
I'm good at prompts. Basically they're all jumping off points for going on long tirades, something I really enjoy doing but don't do often. Like having an ice cream sundae - it's a treat, but not one you should have every day. Or even every week. I suppose one could say the aftermath of being raised in a Puritanical area and having relatives survive the Great Depression can rear it's ugly head once in awhile. We never had dessert after dinner, ever. Not even on Sundays. Maybe the lesson here was moderation? Who's to say - I'm just rambling now.
With Smalls turning 30 on Sunday and the SJC turning 31 on Saturday, there was a lot of birthday bonanza extravaganza activities going around. The SJC really cleaned up on travel guides, which is right up his alley. He even got a special birthday cake. It was a coffee cake, and no, it's not the same as the coffee cake that Americans are familiar with.
I've heard horror stories about this coffee cake, mainly that it's repulsive. I thought, 'It can't be that bad.' Except then I heard it had walnuts on it and I thought, 'Gross.' However, this year it was made with chocolate and, hand to God, it was delightful. It was coffee flavored cake with chocolate icing. Brillz.
The weekend in the Wild West was standard - great food, good sleeps, plenty of relaxation time. I love going to Sligo and am a little bit sad that our next trip won't be until April.
Smalls, I hope you had a good birthday. Enjoy watching your greatest present, the DVD of the FutureSex/LoveSounds tour (J.Tim, for anyone wondering). See you next year for your 31st!
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Happy Birthday to my Beloved
SJC, you are my best friend, my heart's desire, and the greatest thing to happen to me. Without you, I wouldn't be nearly as happy as I am now. I love you with all my heart. And you make a pretty great baby daddy.
I hope you have an excellent birthday and many more to come!
Thursday, February 17, 2011
On Music
A couple of days ago, the SJC told me that he now likes the Rolling Stones a lot more than he used to. Maybe even a little bit more than the Beatles.
Upon hearing this news, I immediately started patting myself on the back and doing the Homer Simpson circle the floor jig. Well, in my mind I did that last part. I did also give myself a high five. This is a huge accomplishment.
You see, I can tell more about a person based on whether they prefer the Beatles or the Rolling Stones. This is not a bad thing or an awesome thing, but it helps me understand the inner workings of your mind. I know the two bands are like apples and oranges, but they came out around the same time, and it's a question I like to know the answer to.
The first person I ever met who actually asked ME if I prefer the Rolling Stones or the Beatles was a boyfriend of one of my friends. This was back in the early '00s. He then declared us 'Ultimate Best Friends' because apparently I was the first person HE'D ever met that preferred the Rolling Stones to the Beatles. We high fived over it to seal the deal. That's how friendships work. There are a lot of high fives.
When I first met the SJC, he didn't know much about my most favorite band of all time, Led Zeppelin. I know that saying Led Zeppelin is your favorite band is like saying free money is the 8th wonder of the world. It's a popular opinion. However, you can always judge whether not a person is a fan based on asking them this follow up question:
"Yeah? Well what's your favorite song?"
And if they answer "Stairway to Heaven" they are NOT FANS. That's like the worst one, and it's still a pretty good song so that's saying something about the staying power of this fantastic band.
My first CD that I ever bought was Led Zeppelin I. The second CD I ever bought was Pearl Jam's Vitalogy which proves that, clearly, I got my first CD player in 1994.
The SJC is now a fan of Led Zeppelin and enjoys many of the same songs that I do, possibly because he hears them often. This is because I'm an iPod hog. It's not my fault, I was bred to be this way. Growing up, my Mom always let us kids pick the music, which, in hindsight, was extremely nice of her. I don't think I would do the same if I was in her position. Especially considering the kind of music we could all sort of agree on was the late '80s synth-pop stuff and the early '90s hip hop or grunge era. We did fight a lot about music. (I remember being able to listen to "Sara" by Jefferson Starship every other time it came on the radio. This is because my sister hated that song with the fire of a thousand suns. Which is also probably why I loved it so much.)
Plus, Mom listens to a lot of Bob Dylan, which I think is the reason why she's cool about it. And as much as we like Bob Dylan, sometimes, especially if it's 1993, you just want to turn on Jam'n 94.5 and crank the speakers in the Ford Aerostar to Wreckx-n-Effect's 'Rump Shaker.' And yes, Mom would turn that volume right the hell down because she didn't appreciate rap music. (Our musical tastes are quite diverse, this began at an early age.) Dad, however, likes to listen to what HE likes to listen to, which varies from Clark Terry to Jimi Hendrix to Hall and Oates on any given day. And if he wants to annoy you, he listens to talk radio.
Anyway, being an iPod hog/my father's daughter has really paid off because I've managed to indoctrinate the SJC about the greatest era of music our world has known: Classic Rock. And now he likes the Rolling Stones slightly more than the Beatles. My job here is done.
Now, if you'll excuse me, 'Maneater' by Hall & Oates just came on my iPod and I have to have a dance party.
Upon hearing this news, I immediately started patting myself on the back and doing the Homer Simpson circle the floor jig. Well, in my mind I did that last part. I did also give myself a high five. This is a huge accomplishment.
You see, I can tell more about a person based on whether they prefer the Beatles or the Rolling Stones. This is not a bad thing or an awesome thing, but it helps me understand the inner workings of your mind. I know the two bands are like apples and oranges, but they came out around the same time, and it's a question I like to know the answer to.
The first person I ever met who actually asked ME if I prefer the Rolling Stones or the Beatles was a boyfriend of one of my friends. This was back in the early '00s. He then declared us 'Ultimate Best Friends' because apparently I was the first person HE'D ever met that preferred the Rolling Stones to the Beatles. We high fived over it to seal the deal. That's how friendships work. There are a lot of high fives.
When I first met the SJC, he didn't know much about my most favorite band of all time, Led Zeppelin. I know that saying Led Zeppelin is your favorite band is like saying free money is the 8th wonder of the world. It's a popular opinion. However, you can always judge whether not a person is a fan based on asking them this follow up question:
"Yeah? Well what's your favorite song?"
And if they answer "Stairway to Heaven" they are NOT FANS. That's like the worst one, and it's still a pretty good song so that's saying something about the staying power of this fantastic band.
My first CD that I ever bought was Led Zeppelin I. The second CD I ever bought was Pearl Jam's Vitalogy which proves that, clearly, I got my first CD player in 1994.
The SJC is now a fan of Led Zeppelin and enjoys many of the same songs that I do, possibly because he hears them often. This is because I'm an iPod hog. It's not my fault, I was bred to be this way. Growing up, my Mom always let us kids pick the music, which, in hindsight, was extremely nice of her. I don't think I would do the same if I was in her position. Especially considering the kind of music we could all sort of agree on was the late '80s synth-pop stuff and the early '90s hip hop or grunge era. We did fight a lot about music. (I remember being able to listen to "Sara" by Jefferson Starship every other time it came on the radio. This is because my sister hated that song with the fire of a thousand suns. Which is also probably why I loved it so much.)
Plus, Mom listens to a lot of Bob Dylan, which I think is the reason why she's cool about it. And as much as we like Bob Dylan, sometimes, especially if it's 1993, you just want to turn on Jam'n 94.5 and crank the speakers in the Ford Aerostar to Wreckx-n-Effect's 'Rump Shaker.' And yes, Mom would turn that volume right the hell down because she didn't appreciate rap music. (Our musical tastes are quite diverse, this began at an early age.) Dad, however, likes to listen to what HE likes to listen to, which varies from Clark Terry to Jimi Hendrix to Hall and Oates on any given day. And if he wants to annoy you, he listens to talk radio.
Anyway, being an iPod hog/my father's daughter has really paid off because I've managed to indoctrinate the SJC about the greatest era of music our world has known: Classic Rock. And now he likes the Rolling Stones slightly more than the Beatles. My job here is done.
Now, if you'll excuse me, 'Maneater' by Hall & Oates just came on my iPod and I have to have a dance party.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Romance Isn't Dead
Monday was Valentine's Day. To prove that Romance is alive and well, my Dad gave my Mom a squirrel-proof bird feeder. This may sound like an un-romantic gift, but it had my Mom gushing like a high schooler about how much she loves my father and wanted a bird feeder.
And I got a quarter pounder with cheese. This may also sound un-romantic, but after a 4 year hiatus from red meat (particularly ground beef) I'm back on the wagon in a major way. If I could eat steak every night, I probably would, but I don't really want to have high blood pressure or a heart attack, so I watch what I eat. This sounds like I'm 'craving' red meat, but this particular feeling has been with me for almost a year now. Also, I don't believe in cravings. I think it's a trick that people tell you. And I don't appreciate being tricked.
I've heard many romantic stories about Monday's events (aka "Vantine's Day," as our local Chinese restaurant calls it,) and people are getting golf claps from me left and right. Going out for dinner and getting flowers? Red light special! (Yes, that's a TLC reference.)
The SJC and I don't really celebrate Valentine's Day. I'm not someone who will go out of my way to trash couples or wear red, it's just not on my radar as an important holiday.
I appreciate the finer holidays in life. Give me your MLK, Jr days. Give me your President's Day, your Patriot's Day, your Flag Day, your Thanksgiving Day, and especially, your Cinco de Mayo.
In the ultimate show of Romance, the SJC took Monday AND Tuesday off so we had a lovely long weekend together. We did what married couples do - held hands and went grocery shopping. And he proved his romantic love for me by not making fun of me when I opted to take a cab back with the groceries to avoid walking over a mile in the pouring rain. He opted to walk home, and I proved my romantic love for him by letting him borrow my brand new wind-proof umbrella.
Romance! Alive and flourishing in these here parts. Jealous?
And I got a quarter pounder with cheese. This may also sound un-romantic, but after a 4 year hiatus from red meat (particularly ground beef) I'm back on the wagon in a major way. If I could eat steak every night, I probably would, but I don't really want to have high blood pressure or a heart attack, so I watch what I eat. This sounds like I'm 'craving' red meat, but this particular feeling has been with me for almost a year now. Also, I don't believe in cravings. I think it's a trick that people tell you. And I don't appreciate being tricked.
I've heard many romantic stories about Monday's events (aka "Vantine's Day," as our local Chinese restaurant calls it,) and people are getting golf claps from me left and right. Going out for dinner and getting flowers? Red light special! (Yes, that's a TLC reference.)
The SJC and I don't really celebrate Valentine's Day. I'm not someone who will go out of my way to trash couples or wear red, it's just not on my radar as an important holiday.
I appreciate the finer holidays in life. Give me your MLK, Jr days. Give me your President's Day, your Patriot's Day, your Flag Day, your Thanksgiving Day, and especially, your Cinco de Mayo.
In the ultimate show of Romance, the SJC took Monday AND Tuesday off so we had a lovely long weekend together. We did what married couples do - held hands and went grocery shopping. And he proved his romantic love for me by not making fun of me when I opted to take a cab back with the groceries to avoid walking over a mile in the pouring rain. He opted to walk home, and I proved my romantic love for him by letting him borrow my brand new wind-proof umbrella.
Romance! Alive and flourishing in these here parts. Jealous?
Monday, February 14, 2011
Frankenstein's Day
Happy Frankenstein's Day to you and yours.
Why Frankenstein? I don't remember. I think because it rhymes with Valentine's. This all began when I was in college and got really sick of the VD hype. It's just a day. And I know it's a legit holiday, not one made up by the greeting card companies, but it's definitely a polarizing day. I'm all for equality.
And while I'm on the subject, what the hell happened to the Grammy's? They went from legit to awarding pop to just giving up on life. While I am glad that little douche from Canada didn't win Best New Artist, the awards still recognize artists who use auto-tune as a crutch. Doesn't that mean they're not actually good at singing? It's a crazy world.
Why Frankenstein? I don't remember. I think because it rhymes with Valentine's. This all began when I was in college and got really sick of the VD hype. It's just a day. And I know it's a legit holiday, not one made up by the greeting card companies, but it's definitely a polarizing day. I'm all for equality.
And while I'm on the subject, what the hell happened to the Grammy's? They went from legit to awarding pop to just giving up on life. While I am glad that little douche from Canada didn't win Best New Artist, the awards still recognize artists who use auto-tune as a crutch. Doesn't that mean they're not actually good at singing? It's a crazy world.
Monday, February 07, 2011
We Emerged Victorious
You're going to want to listen to this while you read on.
As most of you probably don't know, this weekend, the SJC and I went to Sligo to participate in a table quiz as sponsored by his parent's church. This is our third year going. The first year, we came in second. The second year, we came in third. This year, we emerged victorious.
I think it helped that we had a man of the cloth, his misses, a genius cook, a member of MENSA, and the Geography Quiz Winner of 1998 on our team. And I think it helped that finally, my useless knowledge of John Travlota and Whoopi Goldberg's film career helped us out in a major way.
Some of the questions included, but were not limited to:
Which country consumes the most amount of beef? (America!)
Which teams are in the Superbowl this weekend? (Steelers, Packers.)
A whole round about the Bible. (I sat this one out.)
What is it called when you boil a chicken in water? (Blanching. I knew this because of the Great Buffalo Chicken Dip Communication Breakdown of 2010.)
And more. So much more.
It took about 4 hours to complete. The competition was stiff. We faced a real estate mogul who doesn't drive the Batmobile, a Stephen Merchant look-alike, a Jamaican, and the cutest boy on 4 legs. We were not daunted. We prevailed and became the 2011 Champions. I wanted to do a lap around the room chanting, 'We're number one! We're number one!' but this was a church event and I was on my best behavior.
The prizes were flush. Mostly chocolate and inexpensive bottles of wine, but we cleaned up nicely. It was a day that live in infamy.
Now we have to decide if we should retire champions and have our team name hung on the rafters of the Cathedral, or come back next year to defend our title...
As most of you probably don't know, this weekend, the SJC and I went to Sligo to participate in a table quiz as sponsored by his parent's church. This is our third year going. The first year, we came in second. The second year, we came in third. This year, we emerged victorious.
I think it helped that we had a man of the cloth, his misses, a genius cook, a member of MENSA, and the Geography Quiz Winner of 1998 on our team. And I think it helped that finally, my useless knowledge of John Travlota and Whoopi Goldberg's film career helped us out in a major way.
Some of the questions included, but were not limited to:
Which country consumes the most amount of beef? (America!)
Which teams are in the Superbowl this weekend? (Steelers, Packers.)
A whole round about the Bible. (I sat this one out.)
What is it called when you boil a chicken in water? (Blanching. I knew this because of the Great Buffalo Chicken Dip Communication Breakdown of 2010.)
And more. So much more.
It took about 4 hours to complete. The competition was stiff. We faced a real estate mogul who doesn't drive the Batmobile, a Stephen Merchant look-alike, a Jamaican, and the cutest boy on 4 legs. We were not daunted. We prevailed and became the 2011 Champions. I wanted to do a lap around the room chanting, 'We're number one! We're number one!' but this was a church event and I was on my best behavior.
The prizes were flush. Mostly chocolate and inexpensive bottles of wine, but we cleaned up nicely. It was a day that live in infamy.
Now we have to decide if we should retire champions and have our team name hung on the rafters of the Cathedral, or come back next year to defend our title...
Thursday, February 03, 2011
And Then There Was Laughter
One of the perks of moving out of New England to a more temperate climate was the lack of snow. I can't stand snow. Sure, I liked it when I was a kid and when I was in college when we had snow days. Those were epic days. But once I became an adult, or my definition of the word, I started to hate snow.
My definition of the word:
Adult (uh-dult)
adjective
Someone who has a job and/or has to commute to work
Boooooo! Wasn't college fun! I guess it was if you didn't go to a lame college like I did, but hindsight is 20/20. At least Tony Shalhoub spoke at my graduation. And graduation night was fun. But I digress.
When I was an adult and commuted to work in Boston, my hours were 7am to 3:30pm. One thing I hate as much as snow is rush hour traffic. I drove the Massachusetts Turnpike aka the Mass Pike aka The Pike to and from work every single day. In New England, the Department of Public Works are pretty good at clearing snow from roads and runways because, well, it snows a lot in the winter. So it wasn't too bad, but people seem to forget how to drive in the snow, which I always thought was weird, since it usually snows every year. I still hated it, though. My visions of building a self-sustained and carbon neutral city called Snowtopia in the backyard were shattered when I realized I had to get to work to jump on a conference call with (enter corporation here) about their upcoming (enter event here.) The pits!
When I moved to the IRL, I didn't miss waking up at 5am to check how high the snow was, bundling up, and then going outside to clear off the car and shovel my way out. I didn't miss that at all. I did miss snow days, but when you're unemployed, you can argue that every day is a snow day.
However, the past 3 winters have been pretty mild in Massachusetts, so I figured global warming was finally working and things were looking up. (I associate the winter severity with the number of snow days my Mom got during the school year.) Part of me also dreaded moving home because I knew Mother Nature probably had it out for me and the year I moved back would be a banner year for snowfall.
Turns out I was right, but Mother Nature was ahead of the game.
There have been 70 inches of snow in Boston so far this year. In BOSTON. Much more in the suburbs because of the ocean effect. To put this in perspective, I'm 71 inches tall. The amount of snow has been measured since December. In an average year, there is usually about 48 inches of snow. There aren't 70 inches on the ground right now, some of it has melted. But yesterday when I called home (my Mom had a snow day,) I was informed that the snow goes up to my father's mid-thigh. My father is over 6 feet tall. That's a lot of snow.
And later in the day, I got to Skype with my sister. She showed me the scene outside where her husband was clearing the snow with a snow blower. The snow went up to his waist. That's a lot of snow.
So I did what anyone in my situation would do. I started laughing. And I kept right on laughing and going, 'Yeah!' and doing air punches and fist punches and rejoicing in Ireland's lack of snow. Yesterday it was in the 50s and today it's sunny. More snow is expected to hit New England this weekend. And more sun is expected to shine in Ireland this weekend.
Talk about being a winner. This round goes to me!
My definition of the word:
Adult (uh-dult)
adjective
Someone who has a job and/or has to commute to work
Boooooo! Wasn't college fun! I guess it was if you didn't go to a lame college like I did, but hindsight is 20/20. At least Tony Shalhoub spoke at my graduation. And graduation night was fun. But I digress.
When I was an adult and commuted to work in Boston, my hours were 7am to 3:30pm. One thing I hate as much as snow is rush hour traffic. I drove the Massachusetts Turnpike aka the Mass Pike aka The Pike to and from work every single day. In New England, the Department of Public Works are pretty good at clearing snow from roads and runways because, well, it snows a lot in the winter. So it wasn't too bad, but people seem to forget how to drive in the snow, which I always thought was weird, since it usually snows every year. I still hated it, though. My visions of building a self-sustained and carbon neutral city called Snowtopia in the backyard were shattered when I realized I had to get to work to jump on a conference call with (enter corporation here) about their upcoming (enter event here.) The pits!
When I moved to the IRL, I didn't miss waking up at 5am to check how high the snow was, bundling up, and then going outside to clear off the car and shovel my way out. I didn't miss that at all. I did miss snow days, but when you're unemployed, you can argue that every day is a snow day.
However, the past 3 winters have been pretty mild in Massachusetts, so I figured global warming was finally working and things were looking up. (I associate the winter severity with the number of snow days my Mom got during the school year.) Part of me also dreaded moving home because I knew Mother Nature probably had it out for me and the year I moved back would be a banner year for snowfall.
Turns out I was right, but Mother Nature was ahead of the game.
There have been 70 inches of snow in Boston so far this year. In BOSTON. Much more in the suburbs because of the ocean effect. To put this in perspective, I'm 71 inches tall. The amount of snow has been measured since December. In an average year, there is usually about 48 inches of snow. There aren't 70 inches on the ground right now, some of it has melted. But yesterday when I called home (my Mom had a snow day,) I was informed that the snow goes up to my father's mid-thigh. My father is over 6 feet tall. That's a lot of snow.
And later in the day, I got to Skype with my sister. She showed me the scene outside where her husband was clearing the snow with a snow blower. The snow went up to his waist. That's a lot of snow.
So I did what anyone in my situation would do. I started laughing. And I kept right on laughing and going, 'Yeah!' and doing air punches and fist punches and rejoicing in Ireland's lack of snow. Yesterday it was in the 50s and today it's sunny. More snow is expected to hit New England this weekend. And more sun is expected to shine in Ireland this weekend.
Talk about being a winner. This round goes to me!
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