I woke up this morning with a tiny shred of hope unfurling somewhere deep (OK very very) deep inside of me: It's March 1st, which means for all us here in northeastern Ohio, we do in fact only have three more months of winter! The groundhog, as far as I'm concerned, is a fraud.
On Saturday, I washed my hair (full disclosure: Commandment #31 addresses the sad sad truth that you SHALL not wash your hair for 5 days--yes, I do mean in a row). I took washing my hair as a good sign as the state of my hair is often an apt indication of my emotional state until I walked outside and--I kid you not--an entire rooftop worth of snow fell on me. The whole ordeal reminded me of my one and only near death experience with a grotesquely large and free falling icicle on the Upper West Side of Manhattan six years ago. Given the strange similarity between these two events in my life--both involving aggressive water in frozen form--I figure there must be a take home lesson. What is it? I have no idea--though that little fit I took on Friday night during which I actually threw snowballs at God (again, misappropriated anger) probably didn't help. Don't antagonize God. He will always win.
Anyway, I brushed myself off and met a friend for a little window shopping. We did amazingly well for two girls who were not going to spend any money. And for all those haters out there who say money can't buy you love, I beg to differ. Aside from Girl Scout cookies, nothing eases heartache like bagfuls of clothes you don't need bought with money you don't have. Commandment 32? You SHALL look fabulous the next time you run into your ex, even if it means wearing a "poppy sorbet" sundress from the J. Crew resort collection while standing in line outside Velvet Tango shivering like a fool--albeit a fabulous looking fool.
Tomorrow: I Should Write a Letter
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