As you know (because I've mentioned it regularly), my friend Cynthia is giving me a birthday dinner party on Wednesday (aka my birthday). Cynthia and me and six or maybe seven of my friends (we're still waiting to hear from Linda). I know what the menu is (Mexican lasagna) and what the dessert is (Carol is bringing a Carvel ice cream cake with my favorite ice cream flavors and lots of icing flowers) and I'm so happy about all this that there are no words to describe how happy I am.
So naturally, they're predicting snow.
In this case, the they of they're seems to be everybody. The question is simply when will it start and how long will it last and how much will there be.
I read one report that said it'll start Monday night, then snow until Tuesday morning, with only about four inches (I can live with that). But that selfsame forecast then said there'd be flurries Wednesday night, which means there'll be a blizzard.
Cynthia will have a lot of Mexican lasagna. And Carol will have a lot of icing flowers. And I'll be the grownup crying It's Not Fair! and slamming her bedroom door (Scooter'll love that).
Le highly pessimistic triple sigh. The only thing I'm ever consistently pessimistic about is weather on my birthday. Whenever I have no plans, it's unseasonably warm. When I do have plans, there's a blizzard.
I'd move to Australia where it's summer except they drive on the other side of the street.
But if the IOC wants to send me a ticket to Vancouver, I'd be happy to make it snow in time for all the skiing events. All they have to do is promise me a birthday party with an ice cream cake with lots of icing flowers.
Watch out Lindsey Vonn. Here I come!