a recent trip to the "big city" provided me with the following acquisitions:

blender.
(yummy soups and smoothies--come to me!)

very blingy new cell phone.
(in spite of my dislike for flip phones, it was that or a way over-techy blackberry thing...i went for the blingphone that has a snazzy mirror on the front when the screen is off)



2 boxes of extra polar ice gum.
it comes in weird new "slim packs."
hopefully they didn't reduce the actual amount of gum, but i have a bad feeling about it.

a chinese v-day meal that actually turned out to provide five meals.
(sesame chicken!)

and about $80 worth of other things from target.

it's a little odd when you have to buy all of your basics in a different city.
you either end up way stocking up or running out of stuff--a four hour round trip for face lotion is not going to happen on the spur of the moment.
i have become the queen of extensive lists.

i should really get out and ski more.
i just hate that cringing, miserable feeling of being so cold.

most mornings my car and i have a little chat.
if it's really cold out i talk to it nicely, then congratulate it with a pat on the dashboard when it starts.
if it has been recently washed i remind my car how well i treat it, in hopes that it will reciprocate.
when my driveway is icy, i coax my car along, talking to it sweetly while lightly feathering the gas pedal and clutch.
so far i've never gotten stuck.

but sometimes these discussions are more serious...
like one evening when the dash lights stopped working altogether.
("no officer, i'm sorry, i really don't know how fast i was going.")
i tried to talk it into reviving itself, and when that didn't work a couple good smacks to the dashboard would get things back into working order.
until one day when the light stayed permanently dark.
that's when i started to wonder what my car has against me.
(helpfully, the clock and odometer remain independently illuminated, so at least i can know how far i've gone and how long it has taken)

most recently my car has taken to trapping me inside.
as in, the driver's door won't open from inside the car.
so far this only happens occasionally, so it's always a surprise.
will i be able to get out of my car this time, or will i have to crawl over the center console and emerge, rumpled, from the passenger's side?
if i can't get out i sit there for moment, raise my eyebrows and simply ask, "really, car? really?!"

maybe there's a life lesson here.
maybe my car is really a vehicle driving a heightened appreciation for life.
it makes me stop, reflect a bit, and appreciate the simple things that i normally take for granted.
like being able to get out of my car the easy way.

i came home wednesday night and stopped dead in my tracks on the way to the door.
the air was filled with a dense crackling.
like the rattling of dried beetle husks or empty nutshells, but with the weight and crashing density of boulders.
raw and violent, it was the heaving lake joining ice with ice.
with each rolling wave, the water fracturing and bursting into countless tiny fragments of itself.

hello hello.
test test.