Snow be damned—

—walking back from the coffee shop, listening to Vetiver, and watching the snow shimmer through the resplendent glow of street lamps and headlights as it fell around me is perhaps the most solidifying moment I've had in the past several weeks.

Though I despise this cold weather and all its overcast gloom, it certainly has its moments.

For a good fifteen minutes, though my face may have felt differently, I was in love.

Nectar of the gods.

Hot chocolate is a cure-all. It warms my soul and makes my kitchen smell great.

If only it could turn the boiler back on so that it would be warmer than 60°.

Ice storm.

Everything is covered in ice. Over the past two days I've seen so many trees uprooted or snapped under the sheer weight of it.

I've had to chip away at my car in the morning.

On the drive home Tana and I drove by a transformer as it exploded.

An interesting Thursday.

If you've ever wondered whether it's a good idea to ride your bike at night in the cold against the wind, let me enlighten you: it's not. I lasted about two blocks.

I went to the coffee shop tonight to indulge a craving I'd been fruitlessly trying to hold off for a soy latté(!). In the process of licking the foam off the inside rim of my to-go cup, I dipped my beard in latté.

These stories might have been much more exciting with illustrations, but alas. I am no Nicole Georges.

A kind of new direction, but not really.

I've for the longest time been planning on making this blog a place not to post daily happenings and things of that sort, hoping instead to fill it with meaningful insight that would help me grow and see how I've grown.

In truth, though, this insight comes from everyday happenings, since this is how I most easily understand the world. And, it turns out, the seldom-simple effort of consciously extracting the wisdom from the filler produces overthoughts* that really don't help in any sort of way until I relate them back to things I experience day to day anyway.

Also, it's pretty obvious that I've been mostly writing about my days, regardless of any intentions otherwise.

*I made this word up, but hey, it's the English language. That's how we roll.

The new year.

Life lately seems to be sort of taciturn—a time for reflection I suppose? It's now officially January, and historically that has been January's purpose, I've found.

So now to reflect, but what to reflect on? I think there is way too much than can be appropriately summarized here, but I digress.

I am excited for the beginning of a new year, of a new breath for a tired world. I am disgusted by what continues to happen in Iraq and the Middle East, in Sudan, in India, in China, along the border barrier between the US and Mexico. I am hopeful for a better, stronger, more progressive Congress. I am frustrated with school and the plans I am supposed to have for life, and I am anxious to be through with at least one of them.

I am grateful for the people in my life and the places I've been. I look forward to where I will soon go next and the people waiting for me there. I am sad for my mother and her soon-to-be empty house, though I am thoroughly excited for my brother and sister and their plans.

I want to begin writing again. I want to keep up my reading. I want to feel like the money police are not coming to drag me away kicking and screaming (but that's wishful thinking!). I want to love and be loved. I want to forget some things and some days and some people, but in the end I am glad to remember them for the things they've taught me about myself.

And in the case of things that didn't teach me a damn thing? Well, fuck it.