Snow Day!

I'm pretty lucky to have a profession that gives snow days when the weather is so bad.  And if you live anywhere near the Northeast or the Midwest, you may have had a snow day too.  Almost all schools and many businesses (even Old Country Buffet!) are closed today. 

I just came in from shoveling my driveway and I have never experienced anything like that before.  I went to college in the U.P. of  Michigan and we got a tons of snow up there, but this was an abundance of snow in a period of 24 hours.  After shoveling a track, only wide enough for my car to fit through, I decided I needed a little reward for all my hard work.  I looked in my liquor cabinet, but since I don't like to drink alone, I decided to make this tasty treat:

I'm hoping for another snow day tomorrow, so keep your fingers crossed for me.

Junkie Love

Every winter I join our library's adult reading program.  Basically you read books and you can win prizes.  That doesn't sound bad to me.  I even won a gift card and a snow scraper one year.  I know, you're probably jealous, but check your local library, you might have something like this and who knows, maybe you can win a snow scraper too.

 

One of the books I read last winter was Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert.  I know many people have read the book (or have seen the movie), but I have to say, I found this book rather boring.  I skipped many of the longer parts where she whines about not being able to focus on prayer.  So why am I posting this you ask?  Well, this book actually produced one of my favorite quotes and after hearing from Stupid Boy the other day, I needed to go back and look at this quote to remind myself how he me feel.  I think this quote sums it up perfectly.

 

"Addiction is the hallmark of every infatuation-based love story. It all begins when the object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady, hallucinogenic dose of something you never even dared to admit that you wanted - an emotional speedball, perhaps, of thunderous love and roiling excitement. Soon you start craving that intense attention, with the hungry obsession of any junkie. When the drug is withheld, you promptly turn sick, crazy and depleted (not to mention resentful of the dealer who encouraged this addiction in the first place but who now refuses to pony up the good stuff anymore - despite the fact that you know he has it hidden somewhere, goddamn it, because he used to give it to you for free). Next stage finds you skinny and shaking in a corner, certain only that you would sell your soul or rob your neighbours just to have that thing even one more time. Meanwhile, the object of your adoration has now become repulsed by you. He looks at you like you're someone he's never met before, much less someone he once loved with high passion. The irony is, you can hardly blame him. I mean, check yourself out. You're a pathetic mess, unrecognizable even to your own eyes.  So that's it. You have now reach infatuation's final destination - the complete and merciless devaluation of self." pg. 21.