Blizzard '06

Before the very first snowflake fluttered down from the sky, caught a frigid breeze, and sploshed on to the end of your nose, my own Superfly predicted this storm would be dubbed "Blizzard '06". His prescient enthusiasm ought to be properly credited, n'est-ce pas?

Of course, I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Having lived in Colorado for an excruciatingly long time, I view East Coast predictions of "blizzards" the way I view East Coast assurances of "mountains". Thusly expert in all things blizzard, I watched the snow fall faster and denser, felt the wind whip through clothes and shake bones, and ice begin to accumulate in unwelcome places and thought, "Hey! This Nor'Easter is the real deal Holyfield!"

We watched the news--those poor bastards sent outside to report on the storm, the frozen snot!--and Superfly said, "I bet Bloomberg says it'll cost the city $1 million per inch of snow." He was close: some reporter asked the mayor how much it would cost, referencing that old quote. All reporters admonished people to stay out of the street, while standing in the middle of the street. Of course people are going to walk in the street--that's where it's plowed, duh!

Except for my darling Superfly's quick jaunt to the bagel store for some breakfast, we stayed the Hell inside. Watched "Top Gun" and the Olympics. Napped. Watched more news about Blizzard '06 (Lightning storms in Jersey? Power outages? Wow!) Surfed the 'net for new cookware because we had our first cocktail party at Casa del Bay Ridge (massively successful), and now we're hooked!

Monday morning reality brings train delays and messy streets, kids outside playing in the snow, and my internal acknowledgement that I need to move somewhere warm.