Monday, February 11, 2013

Snow Storm Nemo

People on TV yelled at us for days about the coming "historic blizzard." News headlines screamed, "ZOMG STORM ON FRIDAY!" for a week. Meteorologists ominously proclaimed that our freezing northern air would mix with moisture coming off of the Gulf of Mexico and dump a metric ton of snow on us. They also helpfully predicted the storm's schedule: snows start at 8 am on Friday, blizzard gets going at 5 pm, and continues through Saturday.

Thus informed, schools shut down. My office declared a half day on Friday.

Fiancé, born and raised a hardy New Englander, got the essential supplies together: shovel, ice scraper, two-alarm chili kit, and a six-pack of beer.

The day of Nemo came. My boss texted me that I didn't have to come in. I went anyway. Fiancé drove us to work on Friday morning amidst...wait for it...not a single snowflake. "They always blow this out of proportion," he scoffed. He dropped me off, and I walked into a ghost town. Everyone seemed to have stayed at home, except for the folks in Finance, because they are hardcore. Well, in any case, better safe than sorry.

The wind began to pick up by noon. A police car blared, "No cahs on the road after foah pee-em!" as I walked out of the building to wait for my ride. We got home safely. Fiancé made tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch, then prepped for chili while I played Eiyuu Densetsu: Zero no Kiseki Evolution, the talkiest RPG ever made. It was slow going because the game is in Japanese, but I persevered, because I am hardcore. Meanwhile, Fiancé watched reporters cooing endlessly about the storm.

As promised, the blizzard hit that evening. We could barely see outside our windows. We comforted ourselves with delicious chili. We woke up the next morning to the same sight: snowmageddon! Fiancé went outside to shovel the sidewalk. He also trudged to the neighborhood 7-11, which was open because the employees couldn't get out the day before. On the way back, he encountered a runner in shorts, because insane runners here are hardcore, and also dog poop on a freshly shoveled sidewalk, because some people are jerks.

This is what the streets looked like on Saturday:

We had more chili and watched a Mystery Science Theater 3000 of the worst movie I have ever seen in my life, Future War. It tried hard to rip off Terminator and Jean Claude Van Damme, and its graphics looked very eighties despite having been made in 1995. Even with the MST3K insults, it was so awful that I went to bed with a headache. The pain persisted through Sunday.

The snow had stopped by then. We ventured outside for breakfast at our favorite Brazilian eatery. I had my usual cheese omelette, and treated myself to the açaí bowl. I recommend you get açaí, too! It is yummy and good for you.

Here's how high the snow got (those are windshield wipers):

I helped Fiancé shovel this time. We had to cut a path from the sidewalk to the street, which had been cleared by a plow in the wee hours of the morning. As I shoveled, Fiancé heroically freed the fire hydrant from the tyranny of crystalline water ice, aka snow. The TV asked us to dig out hydrants, to help out the fire department, and Fiancé dutifully did his civic duty, because he is dutiful. Also, he is hardcore.

In conclusion: snowmageddon has passed, we still have snow on some sidewalks, everyone's back at work, some coastal areas of Massachusetts got flooded (Fiancé's hometown in particular), and here is a photo of Sheba sticking half her head in my glass just so she can drink my water:

I hope all is well with you also, dear reader. Carry on.

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