(I wanted to talk about the following things about the snowstorm first, before Part 2, but I was so floored over what My Fucking Father did to me that I had to blog about that first yesterday.)
First they said it was going to go through Iowa, and we'd get a few inches of snow. And then they said the storm was headed straight towards us, and therefore we're going to take in the ass, hard.
They said it would arrive some time after midnight. And then they said it would come between 9 and midnight.
I decided that even though I could get caught up in the storm, I was going to work out and then go this burlesque show. It's close enough to home that I can take side streets if need be. Besides, I still need to know if the chick who's a stripper and whom I showed my dick to would still be warm to me or whether she'll just be aloofly cordial.
It started when I was driving there, around 10:15. I didn't notice it at first, but I saw the snow/sleet coming at my headlights. First it seemed light, but then it started coming down. And by the time I got to the door of the club, it was really coming down. While waiting for the show to start, all I could do was lean with my back to the bar, turn my head towards the part of the front door I could see, gaze at the snow falling hard and shake my head at what I have to drive home in.
Show was fun; as usual, she was the best part of the show. But when it ended, I could only get her at the bar as she was getting something to drink. Although she acknowledged the tip I gave her in front of the crowd at the beginning of the show, she only would say hi and make, like, two seconds of chit-chat with me. She was busy, and I really wanted to get going, but I still think this is a bad sign. I was going to be someone she really looked forward to seeing at One Of My Favorite Stripclubs, but after exposing myself to her, I'm just The Weird Guy to her. Damn. Maybe I shouldn't go to these things anymore.
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As I started scraping the copious snow off my car, I turn on my phone. Turns out that my parents did call. I'm always afraid they'd call me in these situations (bad weather, staying out late), but they never did -- till now.
It said My Father called, but when I called back it was Mother. I hate it when people answer other people's phones. Anyway, I told her I was at my car and I'm coming home now.
"It's very bad outside," Mother said. Usually My Father would say that to the point where he'd call and let me know. Of course, I believe Mother's more genuine about it; Father's just annoying me when he calls saying things like that.
Mother's usually asleep at 1 in the morning. That she called to check on how I was doing is historic.
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I'll take the cold. The cold's fine -- well, OK, it's not fine -- but I prefer that over the snow. With the cold you can dress in layers and stay indoors. But the snow ices up roads, causes accidents, and hurts people. No, give me the cold -- just take away those fucking snowstorms.
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While walking to roller derby in St. Paul tonight, there's this guy carrying what looks to be an army sack. I heard him before I saw him; he was talking gibberish, but talking loudly. I mean, around the entire downtown St. Paul area loudly. I think he was vowing to murder somebody, who the fuck knows.
I just stopped at my tracks as he was coming towards me (no eye contact) as he went a different path. I quickly walked past him.
Either he's crazy, or the cold is making him crazy.
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And finally, although I may have had a hand in creating this, you all have to stop talking about it as a "snownami," or calling it a "snowpocalypse." Just fucking call it what it is and say it's a fucking blizzard, OK? But now those terms are being used by everyone. Sigh.
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