A wintry death

You guys. Snow + my car + my absolute inability to force myself to replace my sad old tires with anything even slightly more snow appropriate = all of these things will lead me to ruin before this winter is over. I love this canyon. I wish I could squash it into a tiny package, wrap it in sunshine and that wonderful smell it has after rain and then stuff it away in a little corner of my heart FOR ALL TIME, but the winter commute INTO the canyon is a completely different story. It's like running down a trail, coming face to face with a bear, the bear seeing you, running towards you, swiping at your face with its massive claws and missing by millimeters. That feeling you would have in your heart? That's how I feel when it's snowing and I somehow make it to work safely.

Off to ponder what other folksy nature-related metaphors I can share with you this morning.....

In the meantime, listen to this:



And then read the famously snarky A.O. Scott's review of Lincoln. It's not unusual for him to be so eloquent, but this kind of commendation and reverence is incredibly unusual coming from him. It is a wonderfully well-written review (I love and appreciate a good movie review), and I'm incredibly excited to watch this movie.

You guys. Brandi Carlile.

Quotes

“In the process of life, we are not always the already-tempered and helpful hammer; shaping and pounding another.  Sometimes we are merely the anvil.” 

George MacDonald

The Civil Wars

For me, right now, this is perfection.

I can't help it.

That awkward moment when your boss asks what you're listening to, and you answer "Karmin", because you've been mindlessly listening to "Brokenhearted" on repeat for an hour, and he says "oh Carmen! Oh that's wonderful, good for you!", and then you don't correct him, and you're not sure if it's because you're embarrassed to be listening to such ridiculous music at work, or because you know he'll never understand what you're talking about if you tell him that Carmen was SO eighth grade for you and that if you're going to listen to opera at work, you'd really rather just listen to the last 3 minutes or so of Wagner's masterwork over and over again these days.

And then you remember that OTHER awkward moment when you entered one of the cave chambers singing opera style at the top of your lungs- because you thought it was empty and also because you're RIDICULOUS- and then saw him turn a corner at the back of the chamber and start walking your way, and you know, in that moment of remembering, that you'll be that crazy opera obsessed employee in his brain for the rest of your days, just as you were, inexplicably, a Disneyland geek in the brain of your last boss.

But there are worse things, right?