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Ice Storm: The Stormeninging! Ing.

1. Put on two hundred pounds of clothing, including big-ass Timberland boots.
2. Walked downstairs to the front door steps. They are covered in ice. Spent a couple of minutes veeeery carefully placing my feet on each step, with both hands wrapped around the iron railing. Guy walking past on the sidewalk openly laughed at me. I saw him faceplant into the snow a few minutes later. Karma, fucker.
3. Once standing “safely” on the completely ice-covered sidewalk, I opened my umbrella, because it was rain-icing. As I raised the umbrella over my head, I started to veeeeery slowly slide-walk – slialk! – down the sidewalk. Ten feet from my front door, I was suddenly hit by a waterfall of sheets of ice and icicles falling from the roof of the covered garage next door to my building. The umbrella crashed down onto my head, and I fell sideways into the side of the 8-foot high drift of snow (and garbage) that lines the entire street.
4. Spent five minutes trying to get up. Laughed a little, because I’m sure I looked like a giant mutant slug slithering around in a mound of salt. SyFy Channel, there’s your next monster movie – you’re welcome.
5. Finally upright, spent about twenty minutes veeeeery carefully slialking down the sidewalk to the PATH station -normally a 3-4 minute walk.
6. Spent forty minutes waiting for various trains. I can’t complain about the wait, though, as I was actually able to walk normally on the platforms, and no icicles tried to debrain me.
7. Upon exiting the PATH station in Hoboken, started to cross the street and immediately stepped through ice into a foot-deep pool of excruciatingly cold water. Used up all of my swear words for the day to extricate myself from from the water. Discovered that expensive Timberland “winter” boots really only work best during the summer. In a closet. In a box.
8. Veeeery slowly slialked down the icy streets of Hoboken until I reached my work building. Showed my ID, took the elevator upstairs to a strangely empty floor, got to my cubicle.
9. Checked my mail: oh, hey, everyone’s working at home today!
10. Discovered new levels of swearing.
11. I think the Timberlands just ran away…


Originally published at Livia Llewellyn.


Marine Autumn

I owe you marine autumn
With dankness at its roots
and fog like a grape
and the graceful sun of the country;
and the silent space
in which sorrows lose themselves
and only the bright crown
of joy comes to the surface.

--Pablo Neruda.

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