Thank god for snow days.

I am catching up on my reading and editing for nonfiction, and my reading and precis for language and culture. I am also cleaning, hurrah.

This weekend... good lord. Drinking, debauchery, and dildos.

The highlight: waking up Saturday morning and taking a solitary walk on the beach. The sky was overcast with the sun only peaking through at intervals, but when it did the entire ocean lit up as if it were full of thousands of floating silver discs. It was breezy but warm enough to be enjoyable.

God I miss the sound of it.

The ride back was excruciating. We left before ten and didn't get back until 5:30. It rained the whole way, and an hour into the trip Jodie's transmission started fucking up. We had to pull over in the freezing rain at this country-ass gas station to check the fluids and fix shit. Thankfully we made it almost all the way up the mountain before the snow got real bad. I thought we were going to die getting out of Alyce's driveway (40 degree angle, six inches of slush, unplowed/salted) until we got her fiance (henceforth "Cowboy Sam") to wrangle the Blazer back to the highway. Plus during the whole 7 1/2 hour Alyce was hungover in the back seat, vomiting into a trash back. BEST ROAD TRIP EVER.

Last night the ginger called me, with no intention (that was apparent to me) except to discuss our respective weekends. I like that he called. Even though I have a tendency to ramble and then when I realize it get really self-conscious about it.