You know what sucks? Every season that isn’t summer. Over the course of the last year I was very adamant about moving South. And once the time to do so got closer, I started making up excuses about why I didn’t want to leave – one of which was not wanting to miss out on all four of the beautiful changing seasons.
Once I did decide to stay, we were thrown into the most mild of winters ever. It was 70 degrees on Christmas Day. There was no precipitation in the forecast. And all I could think was ‘Gosh this is a bummer – where is the winter!’
Well, last week we got snow. And cold. And clouds. And we plummeted deep into the heart of sad, sick, winter depression.
This sucks. I’ve been in a bad mood for a straight week. Darcy won’t go in the snow and when she does she eats the salt and then throws up all day. I have more bruises from falling than a battered piece of fruit. I’ve spent half my life savings on Uber surge fees and more hours than I can count sitting in traffic and listening to cars slam on their horns due to Philadelphia’s aversion to plowing their streets.
Nothing good comes from the snow. You’re pale. Your Uggs get ruined. You’re cold. Who ever wants to be cold? Winter drinks are like – White Russians and Hot Toddys. The summer is filled with sunshine and margaritas and happiness and baseball. You know what sports the winter has after football season? Me neither – because hockey is boring.
I’ll leave you with this. The most amusement to come out of a blizzard. Here’s hoping again that PETA hasn’t figured me out yet…
She was less than thrilled.
So far so good. The first day of this bachelorette wine adventure has gone with only a few glitches. After de-boarding the ultimate boring plane ride I had the opportunity to eat a fantastic bagel sandwich, nap and shower- so I was like a new woman once our journey to wine country began.
The ride wasn’t bad with the exception of a few casualties. The first of which was a black bird. He was flying along with his group of other black birds, innocent and unsuspecting, when he was whacked in the right side by a 2004 Honda Civic. It was a pretty traumatizing experience. My friend the bachelorette, who will be referred to from here on out as “Wonder Bread,” never saw it coming. Any other bird would have flown above the car, but this one flew into it. There were bird brains on the windshield. Talk about natural selection at work.
sorry little buddy…
Her sister in the backseat witnessed the aftermath as the bird’s body ricocheted into the grassy vineyard besides us. We screamed a lot. But I guess Napa is a good place for things to end. Amongst the grapes…
Secondly, Wonder Bread forgot her wallet. Note to all readers- credit cards, cash and your license are vital pieces of your bachelorette weekend puzzle. Try your hardest to remember them when embarking on a weekend of binge drinking freedom. It wouldn’t hurt to have your insurance card too considering the amount of wine expected to be consumed.
We had a lovely dinner and checked into our fantastic and spacious hotel. The concierge assured us there would be a bottle of wine in the room and was good enough to remedy the situation when we called immediately to say we had checked every nook and crevice but it was not here. Problem number three was the cork screw provided. It took four girls to figure out how to open one bottle of wine with this impossible cork screw. But don’t worry- we got there and everything was resolved in the end.