Guess whose fourth grade field trip got snowed out? For today. Tomorrow is still on so tonight will be huddling down in a craptastic hotel in our glorious state capitol.

There are fresh raspberry splatters all over my ghetto fabulous sweatshirt dating circa 1985. Gonna have to stop wearing it to church now.

The last few days seem to have spanned a few weeks, but it feels like things are shifting back into place. A different place than before, but not a bad one. A storm blew through and instead of leveling the place just knocked out a few windows. And maybe dropped the neighbor’s hot tub in your back yard. (You should ask to see if they will let you keep it. At least for a while.)

I like to read blogs where someone posts something sweet and syrupy about their partner. It feels nice to have someone say nice things about you to other people. The discovery of this feeling is a recent one for me and it makes me all giddy and glowy.

Sometimes I get sucked into the seemingly endless ring of blogs in which people (mostly men) complain about their significant others (mostly wives). They never put out, they don't do their share of housework, they don't shower, shave, and get their hair did. They just can't compare to various mistresses. (Who can?) And so on. It fascinates me. It makes me uncomfortable. I don't like that I keep reading them. It feels horrible to have someone who is supposed to care about you running smack behind your back.

And perhaps the villified wives have their own collection of blogs with posts that start out, "My husband is hostile and unappreciative and I'd just as soon punch him in the eye as fuck him."

Who knows?

This maybe had a point when I started it, but now it doesn't.

It was swirling around in my brain, but now it has all sloshed out.