Snowbound

Yep, that's my little car, buried in the snow. That path you see? Yeah, I forged that at 6:30 this morning with only my legs and determination, fueled by coffee. That phallic-looking thing in the foreground is the support post for a wild rose plant outside my bedroom window. The plant always had a tendency to lean, but I'm afraid it's never coming back from this.

I was going to do the right thing, dig out my car and go to work. Unfortunately, my parking lot hasn't been plowed yet, so the 8" of clearance my car has isn't quite up to the foot of snow in the parking lot. I obviously managed to clean off my car, but I didn't have a lot of success with the shoveling. There's just no fucking place to put it.




This next picture is the view from my living room window and the wall of snow blocking the usual access to the lot.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all about days off from work, but I have to use personal time if I want a normal paycheck. Also, there's some small part of me that feels super guilty for not making more of an effort to break free of my snow restraints. But I really don't want to get trapped somewhere on the road, or have someone slide into me, or for me to slide into someone, etc. In order to quiet that stupid little voice, I'll probably scrub the hell out of my bathroom. I've already cleaned the kitchen. I will say this: if the plow comes through soon, I will re-dig out and go in for a half day. Really.

{Insert Clever Title Here}

As you may be aware of, the East Coast got hit with a fairly bad snowstorm this past weekend - and they are saying that we are due for more. Yay. I'm a snow is only for skiing kind of person, especially since my apartment complex is pretty terrible about clearing the parking lot. Really though, that isn't the worst part. The worst part is that a large percentage of my coworkers can't seem to find a topic of conversation other than this pending storm. Yes, having another 8"-12" dumped on us would bite. No, I don't want to volunteer to stay at a local Holiday Inn so I can be shuttled into work on Wednesday. (Yes, my work is really asking people to do that. Joys of working in the medical-ish field.)

Moving right along...

Stupidest thing said during the Super Bowl: He caught that ball with his hands. I do get that the announcer (probably the mostly useless Phil Simms, I don't remember) meant that the receiver didn't catch the ball against his chest, but oy. Also, what the fuck is up with the "stats" that they show for various players? Don't tell me that kicker X is the 4th lowest ranked without also telling me if that is only against other kickers this season, how many total kicks, etc. Is his percentage the 4th lowest? I need all the info or I'm calling bullshit on the NFL stats. Well, I've been calling bullshit all season, but this is the one that sticks from last night.

And next up is...

I watched a fair number of action flicks on Saturday, Blade:Trinity (shut up) being one of those. Question: What happened to the little girl after Jessica Biel's character unchains her? I wouldn't think that stashing her somewhere in a building full of vampires would be a great idea. It really almost would have made more sense to rescue her after neutralizing the threat. But it is, after all, a corny movie based on a comic, so I don't let it bother me.

Back to the Super Bowl...

Specifically, the Audi eco-fascism ad. I have no issue with recycling or fuel-efficiency or resuable coffee cups, but I do have an issue with an eco police state. Yeah yeah, it was supposed to be funny, I get it, but how is being all Big Brother about my trash any better than, well, any other Big Brotherish thing? I don't want any sort of unlimited power monitoring all facets of my life. Y'know, no more than they already are.

Ladies, is it just me...

Or does the idea of having sex while dealing with a yeast infection sound completely unsexy? Even using a 1-day treatment, I probably wouldn't feel fully comfortable having dick in me until all the squish and mess was cleared up. And speaking on behalf of the fellas, I can't imagine that the idea of having your little soldier inside the quarantine zone would make for a long-lasting session. I mean, do you know what the discharge looks like? Ugh.

No, I don't have these thoughts pop into my head randomly. I was doing something at work which dealt with the idea of yeasty sex and couldn't help but contemplate the idea. Then again, it's been long enough since I've had sex, that I might not care what's going on down south.