Harry Potter and the Torment of Anticipation

The new HP cover was released a few days ago. Whaddaya think? I like it, personally, though I can't help but want to tease out plot details based on the cover art.

Obviously, there's Harry, Hermione and Ron. There also seems to be some sort of treasure involved and a ring that seems to me at least to be sucking them into some sort of vortex. Horcrux? Strange portal in floo network? It reminds me of the dais behind which Sirius Black (he's still alive, dammit!!! I believe! I believe!) disappeared. It's all very mysterious and I am jittering in my chair awaiting July 21st....damnit! Not even April yet!

Awright well.... here's the photo, discuss.

K



ps- Also note the stag on the back cover....hmm? hmmm?

Proud Auntie

For those of you who have an abhorrence of small things or get nauseated at the sight of anything cute, please do not click on the following.

Yesterday I met my new niece, Jessa, and played doting auntie for the entire afternoon. She's so gorgeous! If you look closely, you'll notice how her mum's gussied her all in pink (most likely a reaction to having had 3 boys before, she's girling out!) and that in one of the photos she's swimming in a huge green tunic. That's the wee dress I knit for her. OOoohh.....

ok. I gotta stop now. I'm getting gushy and I believe my estrogen levels just skyrocketed.

Jessa and her cute new dress!
Jessa and Auntie K
Look how tiny!

a F.I.S.T. to the face...

So, on Saturday I decided to take Bettsy up on her offer of joining her and Jess for their semi-weekly step aerobics/FIST class. I had been making fun of Bettsy's whinging regarding how cramped she felt after her classes. I have, however, since eaten my words.

Ow.

It's been two days, and I am walking like a little old man who just made a mess in his pants. Not cool. I realize that F.I.S.T., rather than a snicker-worthy reminder of some sort of BDSM activity, in actuality stands for "F***, I'M SORE TODAY!" It's like tiny little elves have attached themselves to my calves and are stabbing my muscles with little pitchforks and twisting....aaaaaauuughhh.....

Uh oh...cramp....*wincing*

OK. I concede. *whimper*

K

Just because you know it's coming, doesn't mean it doesn't still suck...

Well, I had a feeling this was going to happen. Usually these sorts of things happen in clusters--just ask doctors in hospitals or nurses on ICU wings, they'll probably agree that people die in clusters.

Not that these people have to have any particular relation to you; they just seem to pass all together. Tuesday my coworker's grandmother died and she left yesterday for the funeral in Winnipeg. Yesterday a part-timer who worked on special projects at my office died under "suspicious circumstances." Creepy. So when my phone rang at 7 this morning, I had a feeling about what was on the other end. My mom likes to act as if she's calling to say hi, but she's never been particularly adept and concealing her feelings.

So, yeah. My grandmother died this morning.

We knew it was going to happen. She's been battling cancer for months and her alzheimer's was steadily worsening. In fact, she's lucky to have made it past Christmas. And, as unfortunate as the combination of stomach/lung cancers and dementia may seem, it was really a blessing, as she did not remember her pain for very long as her Alzheimer's grew worse. She got to stay home and died in her own bed, which is a privilege few get to have. That said, though, it still sucks.

I'm the person who takes care of others when something like this (crisis, death, emergency) happens, so I am not blubbery or in shock. I'm sitting at work, trying to keep busy and the most upset I get is when I think of my poor mum and how devastated she sounded on the phone.

It's wierd what you remember of a person when you are faced with the fact that you will never again see them in your lifetime. My grandma was the stereotype of the great granny: baking pies, making delicious stews, and always ready to cuddle, with an ample bosom and enough soft flesh to nuzzle into as a kid and make all the scraped knees and hurt feelings go away.

The thing I remember most is her smell. She wore a flowery perfume, but unlike most flowery perfumes, it never made me want to gag. It was one of the sweetest smells and I always loved when she came to visit because our house would smell like my grandma's perfume. Smell is supposedly the most memory-linked sense, and I believe it. Just the thought of that scent calms me and reminds me of my childhood summers in Quebec.

I find it rather funny (not haha, more hmmm) that this has happened to close to the big dinner I have planned for Steph's 25th birthday. Because even 5 1/2 years later, I can still remember the minutiae that made up the person I loved. For Steph it was how she reacted when I would make her laugh. The grin, then the laugh, then the face turning red and the choked look when she was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, so all that came out was an hysterical hissing noise that just made her laugh all the more.

I recently finished a great book by Kevin Brockmeyer called "The Brief History of the Dead" wherein he uses aspects of African mythology to create an "in-between" land betwixt the living and the dead where the "living-dead" reside. It is much like our world and it is where people go who still exist as memories in the people still alive on Earth. So, in a way, they are still alive.

I like that. Though I am not a religious person and don't have any particular afiliation with the idea of Heaven/Hell/Purgatory/Reincarnation/etc. I think that this is an idea i could get behind. Not limbo, just...thoughts.

Well, I'd better go finish my work before heading home. My boss is going to drive me back to my mum's today. Sweet, no?

Take care,

K

Haiku Plea: Give me Back my Sunshine!

Dear Sun, please return;
My window scene's so dreary.
Miss you, come back soon.

Love,

K

Hey, I'm in the dictionary!

ses·qui·pe·da·li·an /ˌsɛskwɪpɪˈdeɪliən, -ˈdeɪlyən/

adjective Also, ses·quip·e·dal /sɛsˈkwɪpɪdl/

1. given to using long words.
2. (of a word) containing many syllables.

–noun
3. a sesquipedalian word.


[Origin: 1605–15; Latin: sésquipedālis measuring a foot and a half (see sesqui-, pedal) + -an]

How about that? 'Tis a proud moment for me. I never thought there was such a word, but, apparently, there is. And I love it. Such a meaty term, really gives your mouth something to chew on. Which, I suppose, is fitting, given its meaning, no? I will be writing in to dictionary.com to complain about why my profile is not up there next to this. Oh, so delightful. Such a better phrase than "pretensious-wordy-hoity-toity-know-it-all-who-can't-find-anything-better-to-do-with-an-english-degree", you know? It is my new word of the week. I will hug it and stroke it and call it George.

(*snicker*)

MzFitz

MzFitz's 5 Words that Rock:

1)Squeegee
2)Superfluous
3)Sesquipedalism
4)Inflammable
5)Embroglio

Slainte!

Happy St. Paddy's day!

To put you in the mood for some green beer and shenanigans, here are some photos from Baile Atha Cliath (Dublin) and the Hill of Tara in Eire, from 2005. The dude holding the shamrock is St. Padraig himself. It's said that he came to that hill and blessed the island or rid snakes or some such stuff. He's a saint. Just do what he says! *intense look in eye*

hehe.

See you tomorrow,

Ceallach

Tomorrow comes today

Caesar: Who is it in the press that calls on me? I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music cry 'Caesar.' Speak: Caesar is turn'd to hear.

Soothsayer: Beware the Ides of March.

Caesar: What man is that?

Brutus: A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.

Caesar: Set him before me; let me see his face.

Cassius: Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar.

Caesar: What sayst thou to me now? Speak once again.

Soothsayer: Beware the ides of March.

Caesar: He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass.


"Julius Caesar" Act I Scene 5

****

Just thought I'd give y'all a heads up for tomorrow. Moral of the story: if someone is looking out for you, maybe they have a point in what they're saying, even if you dont' wan to hear it. Oh yes, and look out for backstabbers. That is all.

oooooh!

K

"We will have to determine the aquatic nature of the stream"

This is a direct quotation from the Minister of the Environment in response to a question by one of my MLAs. Just thought it was an excellent example of "poli-speak". What, exactly, is the "aquatic nature" of a stream?

Isn't a stream, in essence, aquatic in nature?

What. The. F***. Seriously. These guys must be listening to themselves speak sometimes, right? They can't honestly think that such phrases are meaningful or, even, coherent.

Making fun of them is one of the ways I deal with the stress of being back in Session again. Today I've been super-stressed (work and personal issues coming to the forefront to create some swirling mass of un-awesome) and have been constantly squeezing a little stress ball my boss lent me. Thank god I don't smoke, or I'd be downstairs chuggin' my lungs out right now. Just...4 1/2 more months...just 4 1/2 more months.....


****

On to more pleasant posts!

Item the first: March 17th---> St. Paddy's Day

Not sure what's up for this. But, c'mon, I'm Irish....there WILL be beer of some sort involved. And drunken Kelly. And we all know what that means. (Shut up. That was a rhetorical statement, jerks! hehehe....)

Item the second: March 24th---> Steph Power's 25th Birthday Party

So, I came up with this great idea about a year ago to celebrate our dear friend's memory by hosting a huge festivity in honour of her 25th birthday. Friends, family, classmates, etc. However, things got off to a slow start and Steph's parents did not respond to my calls as I had hoped, so that idea got flushed pretty quickly.

However, Lindsay and I have still decided to do something, though a bit more low-key, for that Saturday. I'm thinking I'll book a restaurant (probably Greek...Steph liked Greek food...well, that or I could book us at some sort of Salty-foods restaurant, but I'm not so sure they have those ;o)for the evening and then we could just chill out. If anyone would like to bring pictures or anything, that'd be great. I figure we can reminisce, share stories, laugh and (it's ok if you do) cry and all that good jazz.

I will send out an email when I have solidified the plans.

Lurve,

The Ever-So-Cool-Under-Pressure (ha!)

K

ps - Yellow clothing or accessories for the dinner are mandatory. If you don't own anything yellow, consider getting a daffodil or rose or something pretty and bright. :o) Also, as a special Birthday gift, I thought we could put some money towards THIS

Awww, you GUYS!

*sniffle*

Sorry. Just getting a bit choked up here. I wrote that previous entry just trying to be honest and open about how much I appreciate everything that has happened to me in the past year. And your responses were just a little overwhelming. I am so grateful for your support and love.

I knew I had great friends, but to be reminded of it over the course of a few days still gets me every time.

Yes, I'm a sucker. But I don't care.

K

Moving Forward and Looking Back...

This week marked the anniversary of two major changes in my life: "The Big Breakup" and "Getting a REAL Job".

I look at how the time has quickly passed and realize how much I have grown and changed over the past year (mostly, I hope, for the better ;o)

As pained and insecure as I felt at that time, someone in the dredges of some sort of "beginning of life" existential crisis, caught up in the midst of having my heart broken and my skills and education put to the test in the real world...I have survived and become a much better, saner and (this one I'm positive about) happier person for it.

Two years ago I embarked on my solo Europe trip and spent 6 months finding out who I was (literally, sometimes) from the bottom up, then returned to Edmonton, where I moved back with my family, drifted from temp job to temp job and spent the better part of my time wondering what the fuck happened to me that I became some servile, desperate leech trying to suck dry the last vestigial drops of blood from a stony partner.

(yes, I wallowed a bit. Does it show? hehe)

I also started at a job that wasn't my first choice, but I was knee deep in debt and the thought of a steady paycheque and the opportunity to actually particpate in the workforce was too much to pass up. The first few weeks were a mess that I don't really remember. New situation, new people, new...career, of sorts.

I was a lost soul. I'd look around my room and, quite literally, wonder who the person was that read all the books I once enjoyed, scrawled the notes about my dreams and aspirations and did creative things that inspired me.

I thank all of you who were friends with me at the time (well..you're still friends now) because I honestly think I would have pushed myself out of a moving vehicle had I been stuck listening to my whining drivel daily for weeks on end.

I don't know how or when, but the cloud lifted and suddenly being myself wasn't so difficult anymore. I had found that person I thought I'd lost somewhere, but who had ended up only misplaced and in disuse.

The past year, for all its pain, has been a spectacular one. I have had more ups than downs, despite some very serious family and personal issues. I found my purpose again and that was such a great feeling.

Since last March I have worked steadily at a job that, within 6 months, had created a new position for me and given me a raise to utilize my writing skills, for which I am grateful. Since last March I have rediscovered friends (particularly male ones that somehow fell to the wayside when I got caught up in a relationship) who helped me have fun again: parties, trips and just plain old comeraderie.

I made friends at work with whom i could go out drinking and talk to. Concerts, discovering yoga, volunteering with SONiC, a trip to Europe, new people, flings with hot forgettable boys, fun, rediscovering my art, rediscovering laughter and, most satisfyingly, finding a wonderful place to call my own, where I could swathe the walls in my own personality and reflect back onto myself the person I had begun to worry was a mere memory.

I know this all sounds particularly cheesy and introspective and for that I apologize. But In the past year I learned not only how to be myself again, but how to WANT to be that person again. Because, well...I like me. And I would never want to go back in time and tell that feisty, eager, precocious little girl that, sorry, kid, you turned out a soulless drone. Because, seriously, had I not made the two big changes (and they were, have no doubt, self-made changes) I shudder to think who I would be. Probably no one. Defining myself in terms of an unwillingness to let go of the a memory of someone who, in retrospect, was never really who I thought they were in the first place. A person who thought so little of me as a fellow human being that they couldn't even be bothered to tell me to fuck off and leave them alone.

In the end, I did it myself and I am so happy to be here, with debts being repaid, a cozy place to call my own, lovely friends and a great family that I appreciate all the more for not seeing them day in and day out. Memories of beer and pretzels in Munich, camping trips where I just sat around and laughed with friends, dancing again, being creative again. Wanting, most importantly, to be a writer again. To want to go back to school and become the person who makes a difference that I had always told myself I must be.

Hmm.

365 days isn't that many. But to me, it was just enough.

Thanks for reading. And, if you didn't, thanks for visiting my page anyways and giving this long-winded snooze-fest a pass. I still love you. Take care of yourselves.

Love,

K




PS- two important weekends coming up. Will post details on Paddy's Day and Steph's 25th Birthday Dinner soon!

You're a winner....AND a loser

Sorry I have not posted in the past few weeks. I'd plead off as being too busy but it was more sheer laziness than anything else. Interesting things did occur, travel to lovely Edson, Alberta, drinking, taking in plays, going to the zoo to taunt, erm, learn about monkeys and view the wee bebe monkey (about the size o' your thumb, awesome!)...yep, it's been a full 2 weeks

on the bad side, i found out that not only are we going back for Session on Wednesday, but that, due to the new "open and accountable" blah blah blah from the government, MLAs are going to potentially sit for 75 rather than 50 days. Which means that this Spring could go into June or even *gulp* July. Do you know how much I want to be running shit around at the Legislature when it's 30 degrees out? yeah, zero, that's how much.

anyways, nothing else to report. Just thought I'd share the latest Darwin Awards winner for 2007 because, well...I enjoy taking pleasure in others' pain, that's why. Or, you know...I just need to learn you guys a lesson or something. Besides...it's a good way to segue from my zoo spiel....so, w/o further ADO...

Overzealous zookeeper Friedrich Riesfeldt (Paderborn, Germany) fed his constipated elephant Stefan 22 doses of animal laxative and more than a bushel of berries, figs and prunes before the plugged-up pachyderm finally let it fly, and suffocated the keeper under 200 pounds of poop! Investigators say ill-fated Friedrich, 46, was attempting to give the ailing elephant an olive oil enema when the relieved beast unloaded on him. "The sheer force of the elephant's unexpected defecation knocked Mr. Riesfeldt to the ground, where he struck his head on a rock and lay unconscious as the elephant continued to evacuate his bowels on top of him" said flabbergasted Paderborn police detective Erik Dern. With no one there to help him, he lay under all that dung for at least an hour before a watchman came along, and during that time he suffocated. It seems to be just one of those freak accidents that proves that "S**T happens!"

Congratulations, Friedrich, and I hope they have hot showers in Heaven...phew.

k

Happy Valentine's Day!

Ok. I have to go on a little rant here. But if you'll bear with me, I believe you'll find some enlightenment, or, at the very least, a little perspective.

See...I am a very cynical person. As such, I am usually the one to look on the negative side of things first. However, over the past while ( I can't say whether it's been several months or several years) I have noticed myself gradually growing tired of cynicism. Not that I don't get down about things or depressed. Just that, well...being bitchy about things for the sake of being down I am finding more and more annoying than hilarious.

And so we come to Valentine's Day.

Hating on Valentine's Day, I'm sure, has been around as long as the holiday itself. The sentiment's grown in popularity over the last few years as a way to prove your anti-establishment, damn-the-man kind of post-Hallmark social paradigm. Wow. How very 21st century of you. Love Stinks. Original.

Now, I don't buy into that crass commercialism either. Chocolates and flowers and floppy stuffed bunnies aren't really particularly gratifying. And yes, a day reminding you of your singleton status can be damaging to your self-esteem. However, if that's all you get out of this day, I think you're missing the bigger picture.

My own realization of this fact came last Friday, when one of my coworkers "dared" to bring pink cupcakes and heart-shaped sugar cookies for snacks. Immediately, my coworkers (who, I allow, are usually cynical, brought about most likely by being in politics) began rolling their eyes and sneering their mouths in disdain for the upcoming holiday. This behaviour continued on Monday and only grew on Tuesday.

I could have let this behaviour go, but I decided to call them on it. In the middle of our morning meeting, I asked everyone why they had to get so down on love. I called them no-fun-niks and they had a good chuckle...but there was an underlying truth to what I was trying to tell them.

Why have we lost the love? Do we really think it's healthier and more beneficial to ourselves to make a day celebrating the greatest of human emotions the butt of jokes? Because I don't.

So f***ing what if you don't have a romantic interest? So what if you're single and alone? Using those excuses to shit all over V-Day is such a narrow-minded view of what love is. Love is friendship. Love is your family and your drooly pet dog. Love is being decent and considerate to a total stranger out of some greater "love" for humanity. Love, if you're into that sort of thing, can even be about God (though I don't personally abide by that last one.)

With all these different variations and opportunities for love, you would think we would use this day as a time to step back from our self-involved little worlds for 5 damned minutes and reflect on the love we get and the love we give to others. I guarantee you that there are very few people out there who are truly without love. And even then, there is always opportunity to give or get it. This isn't wishful thinking. This is fact. We are just too caught up in ourselves to acknowledge it. Well. Take the time to do that now. Think of your dumbass cat and that cute little way he has of snuggling in a ball on your lap and purring while you watch TV. Gives you the warm fuzzies, don't it?

My point was proven exactly this morning when I stepped onto the bus (having waiting in the -35C, wind-gusting cold for 15 minutes for it to arrive, my face half-frozen) and glanced up at the bus driver. He greeting me with a large smile and with two large light-up hearts on a headband around his head. He grabbed a pair of heart-shaped goofy glasses and put them on for everyone on the bus to see, and let out a boisterous laugh. When we got off the bus downtown, he turned on the microphone next to his seat and wished us a great Valentine's day. I hopped off the bus with a big grin and a lighter step.

Hmm. How about that?

Love,

K

Friday Giggles

I thought I would share some of the things that made me laugh and helped me get through the week.

Last night I saw the 2006 World's Hottest Commercials at the Garneau with the Peds. Here are some of my favorites:

Smooth E Baby Face Foam: Love Story

Olympus Distorted Dogs

Sci-Fi Channel Bionic Dog Suit

Enjoy,

K

Oh, yes, and just because I think it's adorable, here's a great picture I found online the other day. I love the eyes. They're so pleased with themselves.

My New Baby!

So:

The government decided to let my department in on this nifty "Learning and Wellness" Fund wherein the government will reimburse you up to $500/year on money you spend for gym memberships, courses, computer equipment, etc. This is to encourage you to "better" yourself. There are certain criteria, but mostly, it's free money!

Our benefit kicked in as of January 1st, but our fiscal year-end is in March. Which means, that between now and April, I have $1,000 of your hard-spent tax dollars (suckas!) to put towards my betterment.

I was torn between gym memberships, University courses, etc., but I figured whatever I spent it on, with the money I saved I could just spend my own cash on whatever the fund wouldn't pay for.

So last night, I bought a laptop. Not just any ol' laptop, though. The cutest, most user-friendly damned thing out there.

Voila. Mon bebe. J'adore!

*kissing little apple logo on laptop*

ahhhh.....

K

Stupid laws of physics...*grumble*

(or: "How I spent my Wednesday Night.")

Gather round, kiddies. It's time for one of Auntie K's patented, 100% organic, family-friendly funny stories guaranteed to make you scratch your head and laugh at me.

So...

Ever since I moved into my apartment, I've had issues with my Kitchen Sink. Not so much that I come home every night and the dishes have yet to do themselves (maybe tonight...?) but moreso that the hot water faucet is a piece o' shite. For the past six months, every time I (or my upstairs neighbour, for that matter) turned on our faucet, the pipes would make horrible screeching death sounds, like the pipes were protesting against the scalding they received. Stupid pipes.

My landlord supposedly fixed this problem when we all went without water for a day back in October. Fixed that, right? well....not quite.

See, the other issue with the hot water tap was that the knob tended to need a lot of coaxing to actually get water to come out of it. Scotty P., lovely "helpful" man he is, tried to fix it for me one day, and ended up making it worse. (still love ya, boy, you tried your best!) It has gradually gotten to the point where it now takes two full revolutions of the faucet before water begins to spout from the tap.

Then, about a week ago, the tap stopped working altogether. And no matter how tightly I would twist it, it would drip loud, plopping drips into the kitchen sink. Finally having enough, I tried turning off the valve under the sink. It wouldn't budge. So I got out my trusty toolkit, got my wrench and started pulling with all my might. Finally got it closed....but the water was still coming out. After throwing the wrench at the tap, I pouted for a few minutes, then decided to ignore the problem and sit on my couch to watch TV.

The *drip, drip, drip....PLOP!* did not help matters. I turned up the volume and called my landlord (who doesn't make housecalls after 8pm, figures.) and finally wrapped a towel around the damn thing to at least try to muffle the sounds of dripping.

That way, or so I thought, I could at least get through the night without wanting to gnaw my own face off.

I slept pretty well, all things considered....until about 3 am, when I shifted over to the left side of the bed and the whole side crashed to the floor, jolting me awake.

See, I've got one of those IKEA frames that take the slats, but since I have a boxspring, I figured I didn't need the slats. However, the boxspring having round corners and the bed frame having square ones, if it's not perfectly balanced on the corners...the boxspring will sink into one of the corners. Apparently, last night I was tossing a lot, because the second I flipped to the left, BANG!

I got up and said to myself that there was NO WAY I was fixing my bed at 3am, and huffed off to sleep on the couch.

The I realized that I can't sleep on my couch when there's a comfy bedroom, so I ended up moving a big honkin' mattress and boxspring around, hopefully disturbing my neighbours in the process (loud bastards.)

finally, I lay gingerly atop my bed, and tried to rest, while thinking the lightest, least restless thoughts possible.

And it worked....until 6am, when the bed sunk again.

Stupid bed. Stupid faucet.

K

ha! Take that, Aries!

According to the following webpage, statisticians have discovered a very strong link between a person's zodiac sign and their skills as a driver.

The worst offenders are Librans (ahh! Scary Lexi!), Aquariuses (....wracking brain for friend who is an aquarius) and Aries (dad. yes. he is a bit of a "selfish driver" I'd say)

The best drivers are Leos....aaaand GEMINIs! woot!

Now All I need is a vehicle and I'm a much lesser risk than nearly all you other accident-prone schlubs out there. Buhuhuwahahahaha!

Cheers,

K, the feisty (but cautious) Gemini

Zodiac Signs and Car Accidents

No. F***ing. Way.

Hawkeye, the Scuba-Kitty

Sorry, just had to share. You must see to believe.

K

The Miracle of Life: Instant Delivery Now Available!

Well, happy news, fellow readers! (yes, both of you!)

My stepsister's having her fourth child ( I know!) and my first niece to be born into the family today, at 12:30pm.

It's a scheduled C-section that's come early, as the baby is due in February but is being bumped up due to complications. My SS has been in the hospital for over 10 weeks now (and going a bit stir-crazy, I imagine), where--I found out this morning--she's been given steroids and medications like crazy to make the baby grow faster. Wow, what an age we live in.

Now, not only can we make babies in tubes or make them live after only 4 months in the womb, but apparently we can speed up their maturation so they're not all "preemie-like" upon birth. Whoa. She may still need incubation, but otherwise, we have our fingers crossed that she'll be healthy and well this afternoon.

I guess the part that wierds me out is how scheduled this is. Kinda takes the mystery of life out of it. It's like waiting for a train or something. Clockwork. It's like a birthday appointment. My family is at the hospital as I sit and type this, waiting around for her arrival. It's just....wierd. It's like insta-baby. Poof!

"Here ya go, 12:30 on the dot! We pride ourselves on our punctuality! Never late or your hospital fees free! (Ok, so it's free anyway, but besides that....)"

Anyways, so here's to me being a new auntie in T-minus 2 Hours and 18 Minutes. Can't wait to meet you, Jessa Clara.

Cheers,

K

Well...that was underwhelming...

One flavour that seems to linger in my mouth is the bitter taste of disappointment. And I hate to say it, but the whole "storm of the century" that was supposed to hit yet has left me just a wee mite unimpressed.

Apparently, 1/2 the snowfall of our last storm of the year (in November) and a drop in temperatures = abominable snowmen wreaking havok over the town. Pffft. What a crock.

Stupid blizzard bullsh*t. I was really looking forward to a city rendered unrecognizeable by the snow. Maybe even a day off work from the fact that all the doors were covered in snowhills. Ski bandits making off with people's purses before sliding off to their ice-castle lairs. You know, the usual snowstorm stuff.

*sigh*

K