Rather than the celeb-fest the above image hints at, my Valentine's Day night is actually consisting of beef lo mein, beer, and Aleve -- the latter in response to a seriously fucked-up back. Apparently I can't even sleep safely. (above image provided by longtime reader Coco, not actually Nicole and Paris)
I also returned to work yesterday, right about the time my subconscious had started really thinking that life was all lying on the couch, drinking beer, reading Pynchon, playing pool, going to hockey games. Needless to say, it was pretty shattering to realize that wasn't the case.
Also whine-worthy: the goddamn weather down here. I realize that virtually every other one of you is buried under seventeen and a half feet of snow -- I get the Syracuse Crunch e-mail alerts in hopes of hearing something about Tomas Kloucek, and over the last couple days, they've sort of taken on a pleading tone. Down here, it's just a yo-yo. It's 28 degrees here right now and feels far colder. Last night, we had hours of torrential, wrath of God rain. Sunday and Monday? 60 degrees or so. I'd just like a little consistency. A full week of sitting outside drinking beer, for instance.
Regular blogging to resume soon, probably tomorrow or so.