winter wonderland of death

since there was no friday five this weekend, i wasn't going to do any form of question & answer. however, i figured i'd better keep the tradition up so i don't forget. so i found an old one i never answered ...

1. if you could only choose 1 cd to ever listen to again, what would it be?
i think my personal hell would be an eternity of one cd. not necessarily because i'd have to listen to that one selection, but because i'd be forced to give up the others (think the record-burning scene in "the virgin suicides"). i think ... hmm ... it would probably wind up being a cd i have horribly neglected in the past months. "grace" by jeff buckley. a close runner up being mraz's live at java joe's and the beatles "sgt. pepper."

2. if you could only choose 2 movies to watch ever again, what would they be?
i couldn't possibly choose ... but i guess i would say "footlight parade" (for a bit of the old and some good ol' song and dance) and "the dead poets' society" (the greatest classic of our time).

3. if you could only choose 3 books to read ever again, what would they be?
i'll go with the three i have had the strongest reaction to upon my initial reading. "circle of friends," "jude the obscure," and "jane eyre."

4. if you could only choose 4 things to eat or drink ever again, what would they be?
in no particular order:
- water
- sangria
- chipotle
- apples

5. if you could only choose 5 people to ever be/talk/associate/whatever with ever again, who would they be?
i'm starting to feel that this wasn't the best one to select (i didn't see this question ...) ok, here goes. hate me if you wish. again, in no particular order ...
- beth.
- paul.
- becca.
- mom/dad (i count them as one because when i talk with one on the phone, our conversation always winds up including the third person anyway).
- my brother.

that said. ok. i titled this post with a comment made by a radio dj saturday afternoon - made me laugh and seemed incredibly appropriate. my fair burlington is currently hiding beneath at least a foot of snow - probably closer to 18 inches.

whenever summer rolls around and i'm talking with people about living in vermont, i wind up mentioning that i could never live in a place without seasonal change. i need the winter to curl up and be cozy, as well as so i can appreciate the spring and summer when it returns with green leaves and multi-colored colorbursts of flowers.

whenever the first snowfall arrives, i wonder what i was on to make such a statement. i can say with confidence that right now i would welcome a land of perpetually balmy breezes. wildfires, wildschmires, give me the warmth of a pacific sun. san diego sounds increasingly lovely right now ...

i say this half in jest ... all things considered, it's really not all that bad. it's certainly lovely and i felt incredibly quaint walking down church street yesterday evening, passing by children proudly perched at the top of massive snowbanks, their parents feet below, snapping photographs. feeling cozy in my new winter hat, gloves, and multicolored scarf, i walked up the street, on a mission for a new pair of winter boots (i haven't had officially dubbed winter boots in years, might i add. but the snow didn't seem to like my sambas. or perhaps it was the other way around. whatever the case may be, my feet had been soaked and cold for much of the weekend and i was determined to remedy such a situation). taking a short break to stock up on wall art for the apartment (three standard-paper-sized vintage french poster cards - one said "revel." revelrevel ...), i found a pair of cozy, fake-fur-lined boots that, as i wear them now, i can say with glee that they are 1) warm and comfortable and 2) decidedly non-bootish by appearance. go me.

now i can look at this and think that it wasn't that bad. i am, afterall, warm and comfortable, sporting some stylin' new winter gear (chloe, i thought of you and last year's scarf discussion during my odessey-like search for just the right scarf and hat), my car unearthed by my trusty shovel and now waiting for me in my work parking space.

however, as i sat in my living room gazing out at the damned white stuff continuing to fall from the sky a couple of hours earlier, i had a somewhat different opinion. particularly as i realized i had 1) no gloves 2) no boots and 3) a car buried beneath probably 14 inches of snow, a small greenish white lump in the small parking lot at the house.

i cursed mother nature numerous times as i tried digging out the car, my shovel threatening to slip in my grip, socks around my hands to protect me at least a little from the cold. back starting to tense, i wished i was anywhere but where i was (palm trees popped into my mind, as did the thought of my parents in utah, where it was currently a balmy, rainy 45 degrees. bastards.).

nevertheless. i made it out and did all i needed to do. with a mug of hot tea (cinnamon apple spice) and a dvd (legally blonde 2 - i felt a need to see elle's take on washington to see how one blonde's opinion varied from another's) and the first hop sing dinner of my second burlington-area residency (some things never change - thank god), i realized i had made the first storm of the winter of 2003 (well, i suppose it's technically the second winter of 2003, isn't it? you know what i mean) exactly what it always should be - my bitch.

i should add, however, that it did get back at me, although via exceptionally sneaky means. i got bored and decided to play with my hair.

i know. bad idea. but i never learn. for some reason i remain forever convinced that good can come out of playing with my hair. what can i say? whatever i can do to prevent my cutting it.

it was supposed to be light auburn. i had contemplated giving carribean carmel another try, but thought back to my return visit to dc and the expresso-colored hair i was sporting then and thought wiser.

instead, i'm now sporting a head of maroon hair. i could say something pretty like burgandy or whatnot, but not really. it's really maroon.

now i am thankful for my high school expereinces, but i'm not so crazy about proctor high to sport one of its school colors. so as i sit here at work, i'm sporting a lovely hat (i jokingly told people i'm following young, hip style trends - then i told them i had intentionally gone punk with my hair), waiting for 4 p.m. so i can go have the situation corrected by the professionals. i'm going to have lovely hair one way or the other, dammit.

so, in summary, a few lessons learned from the weekend:
- snow = lovely when it's minimal. crap when it accumulates over six inches.
- california = my heart's desire at the moment. i want sunshine and a palm tree.
- hair = funny.
- victoria = conqueror of evil winter demons.