when the phone don’t ring it’ll be me

some days, honest to god, feel like a country & western song. you know what i’m talking about. you do.
a couple of days ago the weather channel (full disclosure, my husband loves – as in sways to the theme music – the weather channel) was filled with ominous information. anywhere from a dusting to 44 inches. anywhere from 2 to 3 inches to 45 inches. anywhere from a half an inch to two feet, anywhere from a frost to hell freezing over. and like everyone else within a 200 mile radius, my husband and i went to the market and stocked up. by stocked up i mean canned goods and water and pasta and cheeses that had no expiration date because it’s not real cheese, it’s more like cheese whiz without the ‘real cheese’ color and so we wouldn’t go too crazy being holed up for a month or two, board games. ken strategically placed the snow blower so he would be able to find it just incase we got hit with 100 inches, which was also predicted. the biggest storm in history. the most white you’ll ever see. i was excited. i was. it brought me back to my childhood when a snow day was like winning the 300 million powerball, or at very least, watching TV all day long. i can still remember the day i watched CAGED on the million dollar movie — it played 24/7 — and after watching that movie over and over and over again, i stopped wanting to be a professional bowler, and i wanted desperately to go to an all girls prison and say shit like: “come any closer, i’m gonna rip your heart out with my tongue.”

it didn’t snow. not one flake. everyone else was getting snow. my friends in DC were trapped. my friends in virginia were without electricity. my friends in jersey were walking around in snowsuits and goggles. but not me. we didn’t get anything. nada. ziltch. and yes, yes… i was jealous. you betcha.

and so when i woke up on sunday morning with a hangover, i felt like i had been waiting for the phone to ring for an entire day. waiting for the snowman to call … i felt cheap and used and humiliated.

but that didn’t stop me. nope. i did what any tough girl does, i went to the local mini mart and i bought a huge, massive piece of ice, and i made my own snow.

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One Response to “when the phone don’t ring it’ll be me”

  1. Amelia Sauter

    Try making your own snow cones with shaved ice. Adult snow cones. Shaved ice, blue curacao, vodka and a splash of sweetened lime juice. Better than snow.

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