The Beer Fairy...

Today is Saturday, the Saturday of the Snow, the day that will forever be ingrained in my head as the day that so much snow fell, I breifly contemplated ending my life.

We were anticipating this snow day, and as a result my mother and I went shopping yesterday to stock up on supplies. We got Taco mix, cheesy popcorn, cases of pop, and pizza pockets. If we ever have another Eastern Seaboard power outage, we'll be totally fucked, because really, how can you heat up pizza pockets without a microwave?

Of course, I was in a rush yesterday because I was called in to work early, and this means WE FORGOT TO PICK UP THE BEER. We pulled back into the driveway and for a moment, I thought that my head was going to roll right off my shoulders and wedge itself under the tires of my mother's car.

I came home from work last night to discover that the Beer Fairy had paid a visit, and a full case of Canada's finest discount lager was in our cold storage room. Turns out my Dad is the beer fairy, and while I'd love to talk about how he loves me so much he can't bear to see me without my favorite beverage in tow, the reality of the situation is that he KNOWS me so damn well. He just KNOWS that I would run out of my own beer and happily help myself to his beer, and then he would be out of beer AND I would be out of beer, and really? No one wants to be snowed in WITHOUT ANY DAMN BEER.

And so now here we are, snowed in and getting fatter by the second. I've eaten half a bag of cheesy popcorn, so much taco-y goodness that my stomach nearly exploded, enough Coca-Cola Zero that my hands are shaking from the caffeine, and now its after five!

And after five is the time that normal, healthy people start drinking!

But first I need a nap. Lord knows I need to work up some energy before I have to twist off all those pesky bottle caps.

My WORD, it's gotten livable in this country...

The temperature.

Oh, God, the temperature.

I went to work today wearing only one shirt and one pair of pants as opposed to my usual three shirts and two pairs of pants and I WAS ABLE TO FUNCTION LIKE A NORMAL PERSON.

Someone tell God that the weather system he's got going on today is really rocking my socks.

Toonses

It is certainly winter...

I have a slight objection to Canadians who write about the weather. We are, after all, in Canada. We're not sure why the original settlers came here [There'd better have been a damn good reason, though] but they came.

And now we have to suffer.

It's been windy for the last week. And by windy, I mean that it's not actually safe to venture out of doors. I'm starting to forget exactly what it is that being outside feels like without fear of being blown flat on your ass in the middle of the street. And while normal people wouldn't walk in the middle of the street; well, you don't have that much choice once the Hand of God puts you there. That's right. I just compared wind to the Hand of God, because that's how it feels when the ice and wind is suffocating me and tossing me around aimlessly while I walk.

When a West wind blows, in particular, I have trouble being in my bedroom. Now, I'm no contractor. I'm certainly not the next great architect of the twenty-first century. I will not likely ever build a Sistine Chapel. I can't even build a dog house. However, it seems that the person who measured the windows for the frames in this building was in desperate need of a new pair of bifocals. Or a magnifying glass. Or the sense to touch the window and see if it fit before declaring this place suitable to live in.

He must have been from California. And I bet he drives a foreign car, too. AND, I bet he's a vegetarian who's never encountered snow, wind, or anything cold before in his life. Not even Ice Cream.

I've got the windows as closed as they can be; and yet, the wind blows on, making it's way through my curtains and on to freeze my sleeping form. The ice builds up on the insides as though it is trying to create the next Ice Castle to be featured on TLC. It is almost like the ice has a life of its' own, ideas, goals, and ambitions that it needs to follow. Like the ice's mother told it to follow every stream and climb every mountain.

The ice's mother should have shut the hell up.

At any rate, I'm freezing away in my bedroom always wondering what the solution is. I've tried packing tape, but packing tape doesn't get along very well with ice.

Oh, well. I'll just pretend that I've gone winter camping and go to bed grateful that the bears haven't gotten me.

Toonses