This fuckin' snow can suck my dick.


It's fine, really. I'm just exhausted from dealing with it yesterday (and walking to work in it today). I made it to Brooklyn on Saturday, with A and T, and we had enough of the day left to enjoy a lovely brunch, some Chinatown (and outskirts) shopping and exploring, and a warm family party in a Quaker-friends' beautifully kept brownstone. And then Sunday the snow began. We left around 10:15 a.m. and didn't get home until 5:30. Yeah, that's right. A three-hour trip took seven hours and change. Most of the highways seemed unplowed and the rest were under-plowed. It was very slippery and hard to see; for very long stretches of time I didn't get up to 30 mph. Under each overpass, drivers were pausing to chip off the crusty wet ice from their windshield wipers (I did this too, at least 5 times). I didn't watch any accidents but saw several cars off the road. Despite all of this, we remained in good spirits. The kids remarked at how easy-going I was being about it (and how unlike the way their mom and dad would have reacted). Because I am a kick-ass dad's-ex-girlfriend.

M is my hero. He took care of my dog this weekend for the first time, and didn't even seem to mind that she destroyed an inflatable ball and gnawed on some Indian corn. And then when I was all starving and feeling strung-out from my road food (mocha frappuchino, mini mint Milanos, Fritos, honey-roasted peanuts) he fed me homemade pizza and tea. Thank you.

And now the sun is shining. And everyone should be going to Brian's star-studded CD release show at Harry's this evening.