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Playing the raconteur
Apr. 16th, 2009 07:13 pmAbout a decade ago, I was in Washington, DC, and went out to a concert at the Kennedy Center with my sister-in-law. We came out of the theater at about 11:30 pm at the beginning of a rain shower, and my s-i-l seemed rather put out.
"What's wrong? I asked.
"The weather report said it wouldn't start raining until midnight," she answered with a scowl at the skies.
So I remember this with some fondness when I contemplate our immediate forecast: in the next 24 hours, we'll either get a fuckton of rain or else 24 inches of snow. Or not. Or something in between.
Ah, springtime in the Rockies.
Am I posting this just so I can use my icon of my new true love, Sakurai Atsushi?
"What's wrong? I asked.
"The weather report said it wouldn't start raining until midnight," she answered with a scowl at the skies.
So I remember this with some fondness when I contemplate our immediate forecast: in the next 24 hours, we'll either get a fuckton of rain or else 24 inches of snow. Or not. Or something in between.
Ah, springtime in the Rockies.
Am I posting this just so I can use my icon of my new true love, Sakurai Atsushi?
