2001-11-29 - 11:59 p.m.

Soooo broke. Sucks. The Art Girl lent me 20 bucks today. That was nice of her, but it's embarrassing to borrow money off of people when you're their boss. I was hoping to get it off of C., but she's broke too.

Took the C-line home today and walked from Coolidge Corner. That's fun exercise. I can do it in ten minutes. The best part is getting off the train, lighting up a smoke (in Brookline), and blowing away everyone heading in my direction. I don't walk as fast as I did in the old days, when I was rubbery and young (thanks, Robyn), but I still got it. By the time I pass the Brookline Booksmith, I've passed everyone else too. By the time I get to JFK Crossing, I can't see anyone behind me (although presumably nobody would take the C-line and then walk that far, but who cares?).

So far the weather has been incredibly mild and I can still go for walks. I was the only person on the train not wearing a jacket.

I love the winter. Snow makes me go crazy. I actually get mad when people complain about the cold--as if God will hear them and decide to make some changes.

Last winter was relatively cold and harsh and snowy and wonderful. The best one in a long time, but not good enough.

I want to get snowed in. I want all the power to go out so that there's no heat. I want all the food in the fridge to go bad. I want to light my house with candles and wear a sweater and my red hoodie indoors. I want to see my breath in my own apartment. I want the trudge to Star Market down the street, the only store open in the whole neighborhood, to take 45 minutes. I want to have to waste a vacation day because the office is closed for the day.

I want it all.

I want the Girlfriend and the Roommate to go away for a few hours, and then I want to open all of the windows in the apartment. NOTHING cleans an apartment like cold, cold, cold air. No air is more fresh than cold air.

I missed out on the blizzard of '78. I was alive and all, but I don't remember it. I guess my dad shoveled the snow so high onto the 9X9 parcel of lawn in front of the old J.P triple decker that he was able to sit me on the top of the heap, right by the second floor window. Apparently, he took a picture. I REALLY want to see that picture, but people are prone to exaggeration when recalling once in a lifetimes like a massive blizzard. It's a good story anyhow. I like that I'm in it.

I probably wouldn't do it, but I would briefly consider adding a few years to my life just so I could remember that blizzard. On the upshot, I would have been at just the right age when Nirvana broke... old enough to be familiar with (most of) the bands they were ripping off (and destroying) in the process.

Each year gets milder and milder, but people still complain that it's far too cold.