Thursday, January 28, 2010

A TRUE STORY OF A STORY OF TRUE LOVE

Dear Snow,
I love you, I've always loved you and probably always will. Here's the thing: I'm not 12 years old anymore. I no longer feel the excitement of 'snow'. The only real upside to the possibility of snow is that it might be SO bad that I get to miss work...which I think happened once. Nowadays, snow means my car and/or work van sliding all over the road, the possibility of missing out on seeing my friends, and subsequent weeks of awful wet muddiness and sad clumps of snow that for some reason refuse to melt. It's a bummer.
I enjoyed you momentarily today. After a 50 minute commute to work (about a half hour longer than usual) complete with slipping and sliding (made tolerable only by Destroyer's 'Your Blues' album) I arrived at work and slip slided my way to the Post Office. When I was leaving the PO I stopped for a moment and just enjoyed the then still heavily falling snow. I got to experience that quiet, peaceful feeling that snow can give you. Then it was back in the van to negotiate the icy stuff once again.
So, what I'm trying to say is I love you and please go away. It's the end of January, and I know you've always got one big February storm planned. Put it off, okay? I'm okay with one big storm a year, screw up all my plans and make everything look nice for a day and then terrible for a month...but just once a year. Don't be cute about it either, no big storm on December 28th and then another one on January 17th, you'll be all "but Brian, those WERE two different years". Not cool snow.
I wish I still felt the impulse to enjoy you as I once did. Making forts and sledding and throwing you at my friends and climbing those big piles of you in parking lots...but there's one simple reason I can't do those things anymore: Clothing. I have less than no interest in buying big snow resistant pants, and boots, and like, a snow jacket? Ugh, forget it. If I could do all those things I mentioned in jeans and a sweater without catching pneumonia, I'd do it in a second (and now I could do it drunk, which makes it all the more enticing). Until I move to Canada I won't be making those purchases, and maybe not even then. Of course, it's stopped snowing since I started writing this...and I already miss you.

Yr Friend,
Brian

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