Snowpocalypse 2010 is Oh My Gods

Why is it that whenever there is a threat of snowpocalypse in Maryland, most residents lose their minds? Grocery stores running out of milk and bread within hours, cars crawling by at five miles per hour when the roads are still quite visible.
I think this is a rhetorical question.
The snow is going to stop falling by Saturday night. Yes, the forecast calls for at least two feet of snow, but this is workable. Main roads will be cleared. Grocery stores will stay open. Emergency crew will be on hand. I am sure many people have very good reasons for anxiety -- I know I would hate to be out there in this. But, really. A gallon of milk has a remarkably early expiration date. How much can you drink before you will run out? And why is milk more important than, say, fresh vegetables and lean meat? You could make a stir fry for dinner several nights in a row. What is the milk for? I mean, aside from coffee, cereal, and mac n cheese. But really, in the two days that the snowpocalypse is happening, how much milk will really truly be used up to the last drop in every household? I think people should fight over the produce section more often. Vegetables and fruits are healthier.
Again, rhetorical. Also, your mileage may vary.

Adam went to Philadelphia very early this morning. He's on his way home after setting up the job, and he will return on Sunday, staying until next Thursday. I'm wishing him the best of luck. He may be an experienced road warrior, but there are many idiots who will be crawling along the roads around him. I will be watching the clock.

In the meantime, I am writing, and drinking by Rich Chocolate Ovaltine Maple Honey Mocha.

Snowpocalypse 2010 is Oh My Gods

Why is it that whenever there is a threat of snowpocalypse in Maryland, most residents lose their minds? Grocery stores running out of milk and bread within hours, cars crawling by at five miles per hour when the roads are still quite visible.
I think this is a rhetorical question.
The snow is going to stop falling by Saturday night. Yes, the forecast calls for at least two feet of snow, but this is workable. Main roads will be cleared. Grocery stores will stay open. Emergency crew will be on hand. I am sure many people have very good reasons for anxiety -- I know I would hate to be out there in this. But, really. A gallon of milk has a remarkably early expiration date. How much can you drink before you will run out? And why is milk more important than, say, fresh vegetables and lean meat? You could make a stir fry for dinner several nights in a row. What is the milk for? I mean, aside from coffee, cereal, and mac n cheese. But really, in the two days that the snowpocalypse is happening, how much milk will really truly be used up to the last drop in every household? I think people should fight over the produce section more often. Vegetables and fruits are healthier.
Again, rhetorical. Also, your mileage may vary.

Adam went to Philadelphia very early this morning. He's on his way home after setting up the job, and he will return on Sunday, staying until next Thursday. I'm wishing him the best of luck. He may be an experienced road warrior, but there are many idiots who will be crawling along the roads around him. I will be watching the clock.

In the meantime, I am writing, and drinking by Rich Chocolate Ovaltine Maple Honey Mocha.

Snowpocalypse 2010 is Oh My Gods

Why is it that whenever there is a threat of snowpocalypse in Maryland, most residents lose their minds? Grocery stores running out of milk and bread within hours, cars crawling by at five miles per hour when the roads are still quite visible.
I think this is a rhetorical question.
The snow is going to stop falling by Saturday night. Yes, the forecast calls for at least two feet of snow, but this is workable. Main roads will be cleared. Grocery stores will stay open. Emergency crew will be on hand. I am sure many people have very good reasons for anxiety -- I know I would hate to be out there in this. But, really. A gallon of milk has a remarkably early expiration date. How much can you drink before you will run out? And why is milk more important than, say, fresh vegetables and lean meat? You could make a stir fry for dinner several nights in a row. What is the milk for? I mean, aside from coffee, cereal, and mac n cheese. But really, in the two days that the snowpocalypse is happening, how much milk will really truly be used up to the last drop in every household? I think people should fight over the produce section more often. Vegetables and fruits are healthier.
Again, rhetorical. Also, your mileage may vary.

Adam went to Philadelphia very early this morning. He's on his way home after setting up the job, and he will return on Sunday, staying until next Thursday. I'm wishing him the best of luck. He may be an experienced road warrior, but there are many idiots who will be crawling along the roads around him. I will be watching the clock.

In the meantime, I am writing, and drinking by Rich Chocolate Ovaltine Maple Honey Mocha.

Friday Random Rambling

An autistic friend politely explains why the fucking idiot who wrote a paper saying that vaccines cause autism was a fucking idiot.
http://marika-kailaya.livejournal.com/843895.html

I finished reading Let The Right One In. I am still not sure how I feel. This is a book about Monsters. Almost every character is a monster. But two of those monsters are meant to be sympathetic protagonists. And there is so much horror, unnecessary awfulness, and I won't even get into that scene with the cats. And it is all so abrupt, and strange, and confusing, and terrible, and what is this I don't even, and I hear that the movie actually does it a little better what with the book's author having written the screenplay. This is a horrific, beautiful, haunting, magnificent book that absolutely is not for everyone. I don't know if it was really for me. I had to detach myself a bit to really get into it.

Eczema flare-ups. Very mild, but still. On the hands and wrists and legs. All praise sea buckthorn, tamanu, pomegranate, helichrysum, shea butter.

Friday Random Rambling

An autistic friend politely explains why the fucking idiot who wrote a paper saying that vaccines cause autism was a fucking idiot.
http://marika-kailaya.livejournal.com/843895.html

I finished reading Let The Right One In. I am still not sure how I feel. This is a book about Monsters. Almost every character is a monster. But two of those monsters are meant to be sympathetic protagonists. And there is so much horror, unnecessary awfulness, and I won't even get into that scene with the cats. And it is all so abrupt, and strange, and confusing, and terrible, and what is this I don't even, and I hear that the movie actually does it a little better what with the book's author having written the screenplay. This is a horrific, beautiful, haunting, magnificent book that absolutely is not for everyone. I don't know if it was really for me. I had to detach myself a bit to really get into it.

Eczema flare-ups. Very mild, but still. On the hands and wrists and legs. All praise sea buckthorn, tamanu, pomegranate, helichrysum, shea butter.

Friday Random Rambling

An autistic friend politely explains why the fucking idiot who wrote a paper saying that vaccines cause autism was a fucking idiot.
http://marika-kailaya.livejournal.com/843895.html

I finished reading Let The Right One In. I am still not sure how I feel. This is a book about Monsters. Almost every character is a monster. But two of those monsters are meant to be sympathetic protagonists. And there is so much horror, unnecessary awfulness, and I won't even get into that scene with the cats. And it is all so abrupt, and strange, and confusing, and terrible, and what is this I don't even, and I hear that the movie actually does it a little better what with the book's author having written the screenplay. This is a horrific, beautiful, haunting, magnificent book that absolutely is not for everyone. I don't know if it was really for me. I had to detach myself a bit to really get into it.

Eczema flare-ups. Very mild, but still. On the hands and wrists and legs. All praise sea buckthorn, tamanu, pomegranate, helichrysum, shea butter.

Oh, snow. Snow everywhere.

Husband has made it home. Cats are being snuggly. I have finished my Rich Chocolate Ovaltine Maple Honey Mocha. The snow is sticking. Shoveling is imminent. I can only hope that my little neighborhood's streets get plowed decently tomorrow, unlike last time.

Anxieties have flared up for no real reason. They really need to stop.

Oh, snow. Snow everywhere.
This is still not as bad as the snow storms my childhood in New York (Brooklyn/Manhattan and The Hamptons). Maryland newscasters are calling this one of the top storms of all time. I am flashing back to the Long Island NY snowstorms of 1985, 1989, 1996, and 2001. Augh.
I remember when I was six during the 1985 storm, playing in the backyard of the apartment complex in Brooklyn, sunk so deep into snow that my father had to lift and carry me several times. Our Siberian husky, Nico, left the most beautiful paw prints as she bounded across all that snow.
I don't miss that snow. I don't want the snow now. I don't like snow. But it is here, and I will go and shovel it.

Oh, snow. Snow everywhere.

Husband has made it home. Cats are being snuggly. I have finished my Rich Chocolate Ovaltine Maple Honey Mocha. The snow is sticking. Shoveling is imminent. I can only hope that my little neighborhood's streets get plowed decently tomorrow, unlike last time.

Anxieties have flared up for no real reason. They really need to stop.

Oh, snow. Snow everywhere.
This is still not as bad as the snow storms my childhood in New York (Brooklyn/Manhattan and The Hamptons). Maryland newscasters are calling this one of the top storms of all time. I am flashing back to the Long Island NY snowstorms of 1985, 1989, 1996, and 2001. Augh.
I remember when I was six during the 1985 storm, playing in the backyard of the apartment complex in Brooklyn, sunk so deep into snow that my father had to lift and carry me several times. Our Siberian husky, Nico, left the most beautiful paw prints as she bounded across all that snow.
I don't miss that snow. I don't want the snow now. I don't like snow. But it is here, and I will go and shovel it.

Oh, snow. Snow everywhere.

Husband has made it home. Cats are being snuggly. I have finished my Rich Chocolate Ovaltine Maple Honey Mocha. The snow is sticking. Shoveling is imminent. I can only hope that my little neighborhood's streets get plowed decently tomorrow, unlike last time.

Anxieties have flared up for no real reason. They really need to stop.

Oh, snow. Snow everywhere.
This is still not as bad as the snow storms my childhood in New York (Brooklyn/Manhattan and The Hamptons). Maryland newscasters are calling this one of the top storms of all time. I am flashing back to the Long Island NY snowstorms of 1985, 1989, 1996, and 2001. Augh.
I remember when I was six during the 1985 storm, playing in the backyard of the apartment complex in Brooklyn, sunk so deep into snow that my father had to lift and carry me several times. Our Siberian husky, Nico, left the most beautiful paw prints as she bounded across all that snow.
I don't miss that snow. I don't want the snow now. I don't like snow. But it is here, and I will go and shovel it.

Oh, snow. Snow everywhere.

Husband has made it home. Cats are being snuggly. I have finished my Rich Chocolate Ovaltine Maple Honey Mocha. The snow is sticking. Shoveling is imminent. I can only hope that my little neighborhood's streets get plowed decently tomorrow, unlike last time.

Anxieties have flared up for no real reason. They really need to stop.

Oh, snow. Snow everywhere.
This is still not as bad as the snow storms my childhood in New York (Brooklyn/Manhattan and The Hamptons). Maryland newscasters are calling this one of the top storms of all time. I am flashing back to the Long Island NY snowstorms of 1985, 1989, 1996, and 2001. Augh.
I remember when I was six during the 1985 storm, playing in the backyard of the apartment complex in Brooklyn, sunk so deep into snow that my father had to lift and carry me several times. Our Siberian husky, Nico, left the most beautiful paw prints as she bounded across all that snow.
I don't miss that snow. I don't want the snow now. I don't like snow. But it is here, and I will go and shovel it.