Life in the Cold, and Revelations Thereupon

Whose bright idea was black ice? Because, in all honesty, it's one of those things in the world that serve no greater purpose or generate any good. (For those of you who don't live in climates where black ice is a phenomenon, a short explanation: Black ice is a sneaky little menace that enjoys disguising itself as pavement, but is, in fact, not. Hence, forcing any innocent passerby to fall on their nether posterior region, or conversely, their face. Neither of which is a desired outcome to say the least.)

And snow. It's really white. And shiny. Who would have thought that snow would be legitimately Edward-Cullen-Shining-Like-a-Star shiny? If you think you won't need sunglasses after a good, long snowstorm, you are sadly mistaken. Snow blindness will ensue. And it will not be fun.

Cute shoes do not exist to you. At least not for the first week or so after it's snowed. You can't wear them anywhere, you can't look at them, cause it makes you want to wear them, you might as well not even think about them. If they do not resemble hearty mountain man boots that add an extra 40 lbs. to your feet, then they don't exist. Just give up the hope now.

And most importantly: no matter how hard you might try, if the snow is over 12 inches deep, you're going to get it in your boots. And hence, your pants. Your feet will be cold, your pants will be wet. Deal with this. It will be over shortly. Shortly enough, in fact, so that you forget this, and immediately go out into it again, repeating the cycle of you and your damp pants. But don't worry, that Starbucks will be totally worth it.

Hey! Look Up Here!

Now, maybe this is too much to ask. I know people have busy lives with many things to do, and not enough time in which to do it. But still. Walking is not the appropriate time to complete these tasks.

Let's take today, for example. I'm on my way to Jamba Juice, meandering down the walkway, when a girl comes walking towards me form the opposite direction. She is texting. She has been texting since she turned onto the walkway. There is no end in sight to the aforementioned texting. Meanwhile, walking towards me with all the purpose in the world. Now, I can see her. She's on an intercept course. There is no way she is going to miss me. So what do I do? Yes, you guessed it my dear hypothetical reader. Nothing. I did absolutely nothing. Call me mean, call me heartless, call me a giant purple people eater. I don't care. I stand by what I did. Luckily, she looked up just in the nick of time to jump to her side of the walkway.

But even if she hadn't. I would feel no more guilt than I do now.

You might call it mean. I call it learning from one's mistakes.

I will leave you with this simple piece of advice: If you are going to text and walk, make sure you can do both separately before you try to put them together.

We will all thank you. You won't even have to look up.

We'll send you a text.

Who Eats Subs at 9:30 in the Morning?

I'm not a terribly interesting person. But I do enjoy observing the interesting things other people do. With this in mind, welcome to my blog of randomness. In case you couldn't tell, the title: really self explanatory. This blog will contain mostly accurate, occasionally snarky and always insightful pieces of everyday life. Or a discussion of whatever happens to be on television. Really, it's a toss up.

Leading me to my first point and the title of this blog: Who eats subs at 9:30 in the morning? As I was blearily stumbling through the Union on my way to Starbucks this morning I looked up long enough to notice: not only was the sub shop OPEN at 9:30, but there was a line. Yes, you read that correctly. A line. I was shocked. Personally the first thing I think upon awakening is not, "Hm, what a beautiful and glorious morning! I think I'll celebrate it with a BLT." No. First of all, if you wake up an think that there is anything beautiful or glorious in the morning, don't speak to me. More than likely, I'll punch you in the nose. Not because I'm angry at you or a particularly violent person, it just needs to be done. Nothing, I repeat, NOTHING is beautiful or glorious before at least 1 and a half cups of coffee.

But I digress.

Why a decidedly lunch/dinner establishment was even open so early is beyond me. Now, I know what you're thinking:

Hypothetical you: "You know, maybe it was one of those sub places that also serves breakfast sandwiches."

No. It wasn't. I even returned later to investigate that possibility, because I'm a nice person, and I like to offer the benefit of the doubt. No benefit could be given.

I stand confused.