The Blizzard Blahs

What to do on days like this? I have a solution that will make you feel like you're on a humid tropical beach. Here's what you need...

Swimsuit, check!

Cool shades, check!

Beach towel, check!

Bathroom? Check!

That's right, bathroom. Call it boredom, call it teen ingenuity, but back around age 14 or so I invented a way to transport myself from a long cold winter to a tropical beach in minutes. You take a shower, a really hot one. When you get out pull on your beach attire, roll out your Hawaiian chic bath towel, slip on those sun glasses and assume the sun bathing position. I like to leave the hot water running so the room continues to steam. Sometimes I throw on a Bob Marley CD and dream of Caribbean sunsets and hippies. Also some Hawaiian Tropic suntan lotion will enhance the experience. I actually haven't done this for a few years. But today seems as good as any. When will this blasted winter die? P.S. make sure and lock the bathroom door so your husband can't walk in on you and laugh his head off.

For some reason whenever I feel like I need a get away, I always want to run for the border...the Idaho border. Was my family the only one that when life got too stressful in sleepy Clarkston we'd take off to a friendlier town, one Soda Springs, Idaho? Probably. I don't know why, but my parents used to take us to stay overnight in Soda Springs. I distinctly remember one spring break we stayed there. There's not much night life but if you want to watch a man-made geyser go off then Soda Springs is your town. Odd, I know, but Soda Springs is calling....
Lastly, I just decided to share an embarrassing story to cheer up your day. I have a very vast, assorted collection of mortifications. I look back on most of them with fondness and humor. It helps to remember when I'm actually living through one of those moments that in a few months or years I'll find it hilarious. On to the story.

My mother and I were shopping one day in Wal Mart. We ran into a boy my age that I grew up with. I hadn't seen him in a few years. We stopped and the awkward chit chat began. I found out he was just recently married. I then took his hand in mine, my eyes bugging out at his man bling ring. I said something like, "That's a huge ring." Then realizing how I was treating him like a girl in raising his hand and looking at his ring (I think I actually envisioned a french tip manicure on him), not to mention the intimacy of that sort of gesture not being appropriate to an old acquaintance I flushed red and dropped his hand. I then mumbled my congratulations and pulled my mother away from the scene of the crime. WHAT WAS I THINKING?!?! Thankfully I haven't seen him since. He probably decided to move away from the area because my very social faux pas confirmed his belief that people around here are nuts. I can't explain my behavior. When I saw that ring all my inhibitions just went out the window I guess. I swear he had more carets in his diamond ring than I do in mine. What can I say, the man bling dazzled my sensibilities.