I have wussed out. I have.
And I am not proud.
I am supposed to be dining with friends on fresh salmon and bread and old expensive wine smuggled in from France by friends pre 9.11.
Instead I am hankering down at home because of a little snow. Well, not just a little snow, but a little snow and windthatís making visibility bad, bad, bad.
The first snow of the year really.
My best friend in the male category is in from Seattle for the holidays and he was making dinner tonight - and I was supposed to be there. I havenít seen him in a year!
Except heís 60 miles away and I tried driving but it took an hour to go 25 miles. And itís so windy on the interstate you canít see anything - even the little things like the car ahead of you until you have to slam on your brakes then the ice takes over and the skidding starts. Thereís not a lot of snow, but what little there is is causing quite the blinding white little ruckus.
Please, donít even get me started the SUVís Ė the ones that think 4-wheel drive means total invincibility.
Hey you Ė yeah you screaming along at your usual gotta-get-to-the-country club-for-cocktails lightening fast pace in your Path Finder. News flash - your Path Finderís gonna find its way up Grannyís Cadillac Ass if you donít slow down on the ice. Four wheel driveís not gonna keep you or the soccer team strapped in back from sliding all over the interstate unless youíve got cleats on those Goodyear tires. So, slow down you four wheel drive fuck. Your time isnít that important. Chip will still be waiting all comfy-cozy in his sweater vest at the country club whether you are a half hour late or not.
Yes, the ice is here, too. And since itís the first of the year Ė no one is used to driving in it yet, so everyone is either going to fast or tooling along at John Deere Riding Mower Top Speed. After cruising along for an hour in second gear behind some freaking moron in a semi Ė I cut my loses, made a call and headed home.
Donít get me wrong, I am one bad-ass driver. Thereís nothing I like more than driving in the freezing cold with the heat on, good music and a hot cup of coffee. And I could bore you with the stories of treacherous drives to rescue friends or winding up in ditches bundling up in the extra clothes I always keep in the car for just that kind of emergency in case I have to look for a phone to be rescued.
Iíve lost the taste for that adventure, I guess. After a huge spin out last year that kept me numb and freezing in the middle of nowhere waiting for my rescue to come, the fun is gone.
I wanna play in it, I just donít want to drive in it unless I can see.
You know what I mean?
In other news Ė you know that ghetto test thatís going around? Well, I took it awhile ago and it turns out, even though I live in the land of soccer moms and baby strollers - Iím about 70% or so ghetto.
Yes, I am proud, thanks for asking.
I am certain the question that put me over the top has a little something to do with using the gas stove to heat the crib.
I think Iíve mentioned this before Ė the thermostatís in the firemanís apartment across the hall and he likes it chilly. Which is fine Ė except he leaves for days at a time for fireman duties. So when you need a little crank to the heat because itís freaking 58 degrees in the place, thereís no way to get to it.
Which leaves me with my space heater Ė which runs on electricity. And I alone pay for my Ďlectric bill.
Gas heat on the other hand Ė that bill is split and shared. And if that mofoís gonna bow out for a few days leaving me in the cold Ė I say heís gotta help with the costs!
I am so passive aggressive petty.
But, maybe I am not so much a wuss. I mean, gas ovens and space heaters are dangerous stuff.
Who needs lethal road conditions when my you live with the risk of explosive stoves or tipping space heaters!
Living on the edge, I am.