Happy Almost Spring! (she said with sarcasm)

Yeah. So, it was like, 80 degrees last weekend, right? Not New Guy spun me right round in the little race car with the sunroof out and the windows down (I know, I know...the hair) and it felt soooo good after this long, dark winter. And then the next day it was Spring forward time, so there was extra sunshine to be had, and it really warmed me to my bones. I used to really love winter, surprisingly. I loved the cold, I loved the snow, I loved dressing in all these layers and snuggling up under a big blanket (ok, I still pretty much love the blanket part) and I reveled in winter while everyone else cursed me for doing so. This year? Not so much. So the fresh burst of Spring that came last weekend was most welcome, and you found me busting out the capris and the Spring handbags and scheduling the French pedi. Yea! The joy!

Then came the snow.

Yeah, you heard me. Thursday evening as I drove home from work, it began. Friday morning when I woke up, this is what greeted me.




Yeah. I know it's pretty. But it's MARCH, and I've had about all the pretty I care to take! And since then? Rain. Oh yeah, cold, drizzly, misting, sideways sting-ging rain, the kind that whips its way around your umbrella and settles itself into your hair, thus effectively ruining whatever attempt one might have made at styling. I'm thisfuckingclose to getting one of those attractive clear plastic kerchief things the old ladies wear to church and bingo. Just try me.

I was up at the crack of early this morning because I need to get some laundry done and get packed for Montana tomorrow. My flight leaves at 7:00 am, I have to be at the airport at an early enough time so as to beat the huge crowds of morning commuters flying out of one of the, oh I don't know, 5 gates that we have at this airport, and it takes me a minute or two to get ready in the mornings, so y'all know I need to be up around the same time Diane Sawyer's alarm clock goes off. My trip takes me from here to ATL, from ATL to Salt Lake City, and from there to Bozeman. By the time my travel day is over, I will have spent about 12 hours getting there. Anybody want to take bets on what my mood is going to be like when I get there? Anybody want to take bets on what happens to the Avis agent if she tells me there is a "problem" with my rental car? If that happens, I think it would be best if I just have Efen on speed dial, and hand the phone over. Between his mouth and the look of death on my face, I imagine we wouldn't have a problem for long. (hehe...that's kind of fun to think about, in an evil sort of way ;) I'm thinking about not even taking my laptop. I can't stand to carry on anything besides my purse (and even that is a chore once I overload that thing down) and I don't relish the thought of having to drag another heavy bag around with me for 12 hours. I'll have my iPhone, so I can get emails and catch up on blogs and Twitter and Facebook and all that other shit I can't seem to live without anymore. I'm still debating. I wish I could pack it in my suitcase, but I imagine if I want to ever see it again, that wouldn't be the most prudent choice.

I'll spend Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday in my trainee's store, and I imagine there won't be a lot of time for sightseeing, but I'm excited to see Montana (from the rental car, and the hotel window, and the airplane, anyway). Remember, I'm going to see Nature Girl again, the one who suggested I check out a cave when I got out there. I'll nip that right in the bud and make sure to take only shoes that have no chance of ever seeing any sort of terrain. Poppa called me the other day and wants me to pick him up a map of "anything to do with fishing". Mmmmmmkay. (Seems he and Mimi are ditching the China thing and instead are thinking about RV-ing throughout the countryside for weeks on end.) So, when I get home Friday evening, guess what will be here to greet me?

Um, besides Mimi and Poppa, who are coming for a visit.

That's right...I'm coming home on March 20th, the first official day of Spring.

And it better. Be. SPRING. For real this time. Not fake-out Spring. Otherwise, I'm getting Efen back on speed dial.

(Mrs. Wally...we miss you!)