A slightly un-American post.

I kind of hate the Olympics.

I mean, sure:  Rah rah!  U.S.A!  America, F*** Yeah!  

But also:  quit hogging my TV, dude.

I know part of it is that I'm just sick to death of the snow.  Sorry athletes, but I am just completely. burnt. out. on winter right now.  Come back in four years.  (Heh.) 

Ironic, isn't it, that February is the shortest month, and yet somehow these 16 days feel like an eternity?  I can't remember the last time I turned on the TV and wasn't blinded by the glare of sun on snow... or is it the strobe light-like effect of a zillion camera flashes aimed at Johnny Weir's costume?

Then there's pairs figure skating.  I caught some of it over the weekend and I swear to you, at least one person in every. last. couple. TOTALLY BIT IT.  

Can you imagine?  Train your ass off, fall a whole lot, skate skate skate, sweat sweat sweat, skate some more, fall some more, skate AGAIN... and then your D.B. (Sweeney!) partner falls?

HELL no.  He'd be staring down the barrel of a tantrum of epic proportions.  The whole world just watched you biff it for me... it's going to be a long flight home, sweetie.

 

"I swear, you let me down and it'll take them a month to count the blade marks up your back." 

(FYI, that's one of my favorite movies.  "Yes, Doug can read."  Classic snark!)

Really, I think I just have a hard time getting all fired up over how fast people can slide down a hill on their stomachs in this kind of weather ON PURPOSE.  Sure, those guys do it and it's monumental!  Hooray!  Here's a medal! 

 

But then I do it, and people think I'm drunk again.

Hrmph.  

P.S. don't report me as a terror threat.  And for the love of relationship harmony, please don't tell J.  Actually that's probably more important.

 *EDITED TO ADD:  I must admit to a slight weird crush-like fascination with Shaun White.  That dude just looks... snuggly.

Eat it, winter.

The university closed early again today.  I got sent home at 2... and I pulled into the parking lot at J's place at 4.  

They're 15 miles apart.

Much like the rest of the Midwest and the Eastern seaboard, our fair state's capital has been getting hosed with snow this year.  My life is about one log cabin and a pot of beans away from turning into Little House on the Freakin' Prairie.  (Book six, The Long Winter, is my second favorite in the series, but damn it, I don't want to BE Laura Ingalls!)

This chapter in our snow story may be the worst yet this winter, but the silver lining is that it might lead to a snow day tomorrow.  They told us to wrap up our Monday itineraries before we left... and to reschedule any Tuesday meetings or appointments... you know, just in case.  

Well, hell.  Don't dangle a carrot like that unless you mean it!

With the prospect of a snow day looming, I have to confess that the two hour drive home was complicated by a stop at the only Whole Foods in Columbus.  In my defense, though, it's walking distance from J's place, and if this keeps up and we get snowed in, we're going to need supplies!  

I went into the store, and it was snowing.  

I came out 20 minutes later (and X dollars poorer), had to scrape ice off my windows, and it was snowing.

J and I sat down to watch a marathon of Pawn Stars on The History Channel almost three hours ago, fortified with adult beverages and some bacon-cheese popcorn, and it was snowing.  

A pot of my awesome "patate del paesano" has been simmering for about two episodes.  The house smells incredible, J just poured me a second glass of shiraz... and it's still snowing.

Fingers crossed!  I'm going to invoke the third-grade prescription for getting a snow day tonight:  flushing ice cubes down the toilet and wearing my jammies backwards.  Stay tuned to see if it works!

Give it a rest, Rach.

I got another snow day today!  The university held out till 3:00, but the roads were getting worse and the snow just kept falling, so The Powers That Be convened an emergency meeting and decided to let us all go home.

It wasn't really a surprise.  My 15-mile commute took 90 minutes this morning, and I was one of the ones who had it easy.

The point is, though, that my first thought wasn't "freebie long evening, ahhhhhh!"  It was "holy crap!  Two extra hours to get a ton of stuff done tonight!"

Commute forgotten, Level 1 Snow Emergency be damned, I'm going to get some moving and unpacking done!  Watch out, new apartment; you don't even know what's coming!  

And then J was my reality check.  

"Rach:  the roads are ten times worse than they were this morning.  The boxes will still be there this weekend."

What my car would have looked like if I had had to work a full day.

Hrmph.  That guy is right, like, all the time.  

So I left the office, picked up a bottle of Shiraz (for me), a six-pack of Conway's Irish Ale (for J and his brother who's visiting), a little pot of broccoli cheddar soup and a loaf of crusty bread... and I've been sitting on the couch since 4:37.

What's cool is that today goes right along with yesterday's entry.  I make lists, an average of two or three a day.  My day planner might as well be my bible.  It stands to reason, then, that sometimes I need a little help shutting off that part of my life and just... being.  I'm writing this from J's couch (because I haven't moved mine yet, duh!) in a sweatshirt and yoga pants; he just got up to pour me a second glass.  He and his brother S and I are plotting out the evening's TV selections and trying to decide between Xbox or PS3 in the meantime.

I know exactly what's going in the gratitude journal tonight.