Last evening, the local network newscasts amped and advised about the first, real winter snowstorm of the season.
NYC may get up to a foot of the white stuff, before the snowplows rev up and roll in, and that blasted salt mixture coats everything, destroys our boots, corrodes the undersides of cars. A day later, and the snow will be shoved up into gray, soot-coated piles. Slush puddles will form at every street corner of every intersection.
I curled up in my red flannel pajamas, and pulled a comforter around me. Jake nestled across my lap, and I sort of dozed, sort of watched the opening of the Winter Olympics in Torino, Italy. Sometimes I just need to take a night down, quiet, recharge the batteries (notwithstanding the funny phone call at 1 a.m. from Catnip.)
La Latina has been working late every night this week. I can imagine her, exhausted. She'll zombie into her apartment, crash, and dream about Caribbean climates.
Hot Momma is still in Los Angeles, suffering through a bout of strep throat, even as she finishes business adjunct to the Grammy Awards.
Prima Downhill is driving north, heading for her mountain. She should hit snow this weekend. I know she'll be psyched. It's been high and dry too long.
Striptellectual is working downtown, making good coin. A pole is involved.
Surfer Girl and Liz Taylor, Jr. are either working late on freelance projects - or pounding vodka and champagne respectively. If L-Diva is with them, she'll perform an impromptu act - or not. If she does, men will stare, wishing, wanting.
Datomantrix emailed this: "I am cutting the crotch out of nice, thick stockings. It's too freaking cold outside to wear stockings and a garter belt. My date will be able to cop a feel just as easily."
Damn. Hot time in the wintry city.
You better believe that I have been dreaming of tropical climates!!! Who wants to move to MIA with me?????
Posted by: La Latina | Sunday, February 26, 2006 at 06:40 PM