Winter brings a lot of unpleasantries: soggy socks, chapped lips, stalled motors, hidden slush-puddles, traffic delays, unwanted shivers. But I'd forgotten about some of the perks: hot cocoa, fuzzy scarves, fingerless gloves that have the little mitten flaps, rosy cheeks. Last night, I rediscovered another quiet, small joy of winter. We were sliding around the playground across from my house, climbing cold jungle gyms and seeing our breath rise. The heavy snow was falling as the streetlights shed a fuzzy coral glow around us; the scene felt movie-perfect. My face was a little raw from the whipping wind, and when we kissed, it was a little spark of warmth breaking through the chill. I'd forgotten how happy that could make me.
And now I feel like I have to do something that is less emo, so that I come off as detached or unsentimental. How about this:
Maybe it's just me, but I've always seen a resemblance. I really hope that the new director of HOMELAND SECURITY* looks like Ronald McDonald or something. He could change his wig to match the alert level.
* The phrase "homeland security" has always bothered me. Maybe it's just semantics, but "homeland" has a weird nationalistic connotation to it along the lines of motherland and fatherland.
And now I feel like I have to do something that is less emo, so that I come off as detached or unsentimental. How about this:
Maybe it's just me, but I've always seen a resemblance. I really hope that the new director of HOMELAND SECURITY* looks like Ronald McDonald or something. He could change his wig to match the alert level.
* The phrase "homeland security" has always bothered me. Maybe it's just semantics, but "homeland" has a weird nationalistic connotation to it along the lines of motherland and fatherland.
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