Walking’ in a Winter Wonderland
(and the weekend in review – since I was too giddy yesterday)
Snow! It is so pretty. See:
It has been brought to my attention that some people do not enjoy snow. Formerly, I was a snow hater. Snow meant months and months of cold and misery and cars that won’t start and windshields that must be scraped and having to call other people for rides to the bar because it’s far too cold to walk the five blocks and your car buried in a snowdrift.
In fact, one of the big reasons I chose Los Angeles was the absence of snow. I traveled there the spring before I moved (with my very dear friend Marcy and six other people) to check it out, and while we were there, in March, it not only didn’t snow, it was also warm enough for us to swim in the hotel pool. There is no way in hell you would get me into an outdoor pool in March now, even in Los Angeles, but it was a lovely experience then – especially the parts where the weather channel kept talking about the big snowstorm ravaging South Dakota.
So – I am with the anti-snow crowd. But – I think I have found the answer. Portland snow is pretty. And it doesn’t last long. And, typically, it only happens once or twice a year – which is about the perfect amount of time to have snow. Once or twice a year. Because then I can squeal “pretty!” but never ever have to bitch about shoveling. So – how can that be bad? It’s basically just decorative.
So – on to the weekend.
Friday was a blah day. Didn’t get much done. Went home (no date night!). Saturday, I had a volunteer interview at the library, and it’s settled. I am now an official library volunteer. Which is cool. I get to play with books every day.
Saturday night, the architect and I went to a Barenaked Ladies concert. I had a blast. We had awesome seats, courtesy of our very cool friends Sue & Alan. If I knew how to get pics off the architect’s camera phone, I would totally share.
The worst thing about the concert (other than the fact that the architect is not so much into the Barenaked Ladies) was the large number of drunken people. I will be the first to admit that last time I saw them in concert, I was not what one might consider sober (and if you did consider me sober, you definitely might want to look into rehab, Lindsey Lohan). Much beer was consumed, and many other things were smoked. The Proclaimers opened, and that was awesome, and I’m sure they played many good songs, but the whole memory is rather…hazy.
Saturday night, there was no hazy. There were two beers. It was fun. The family in front of me wasn’t so fun. The parents, in their mid-late thirties, brought their kids. A 14-year old (which, fine, 14, whatever) and a five year old. The small one was not having fun. Fortunately for him, his parents were plastered and having enough fun for twenty 5-year olds. The poor kid was so tired and wanted to sit on the chair. The dad kept picking him up and whacking him into other concert goers. I just felt bad for the poor kids, even though his parents had thoughtfully provided him with earplugs. So, people, if you’re going to take your infant to a bar, fine (as long as it’s a non-smoking bar and it’s dinner time, not midnight), and if you’re going to take your kindergartener to a concert fine (as long as it’s the Wiggles or something in the middle of the day, or you’re not getting completely blitzed!) – not that I have issues.
I remarked to my mother that it was weird being the person annoyed with the young drunk girls instead of the annoying drunk girl, but I don’t think she was as impressed with my growth and maturity as I was.
Sunday, we went to an open house. We’d intended to go to more than one, but only one on the list was actually…open. The house was so terrific. Except for the lack of closets, a dining room, and a garage. But other than that, perfect. (It had a laundry chute from the [single] bathroom to the basement laundry area!) There were hardwoods and an organic garden and a twee little breakfast nook and an enormous fireplace. It was lovely. But tiny cute perfections do not, apparently, balance four huge problems. And I know that the lack of closets would drive me insane. I know it’s true. But it was so pretty! Perhaps if it had been at the bottom of our price range instead of the top of our price range, things would have seemed better.
The other new exciting thing is that I have health insurance starting this Friday. WOOT! And, because I am all prepared and stuff, I also have an appointment to see a naturopathic doctor (the best of both worlds, and I have little faith left in the western methodologies, but, because of the number of times the doctor has said “pre-cancerous growth” following a biopsy, I have decided not to completely abandon the western ways). So, currently I am believing that the naturopathic doctor will cure everything. Endometriosis & dysmenorrhea? cured. Cervical dysplasia with pre-cancerous growths? gone. Fairly mild mental instability? Taken care of. That weird pinched nerve thing in my lower back? Fixed. Random bouts of insomnia? (hee – the first time I typed insomnia, I wrote insanity – maybe I’m delusional about the mild mental instability, and my slip is trying to tell me something – like who wears slips with pants?) All better. Inability to lose even one ounce of weight even though I eat between 1200 & 1500 calories a day, run races, and exercise and cut way back on the alcohol and other empty-calorie beverages? Well, I do draw the hope-line somewhere – so maybe she’ll just recommend a good liposuction-ologist or something.
Anyways, I am excited to go to the doctor where all my ills will be cured.
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