Speaking from giddy experience, there's nothing more fantastic than a snow day except another completely unexpected snow day, announced just as your first one draws to a reluctant close. The phrase "due to inclement weather" is a beautiful thing indeed. I've been whiling away my sweet time reading a great book (Specialty Topics in Calamity Physics by Marisha Pessl, which, for those who might not know, is not in fact a discourse on colliding particles but a whirring fiction novel that sweeps one off his/her feet) and drinking Keurig's Single Cup Dark Chocolate Hot Cocoa. If you're familiar with Blue van Meer, I'm starting to think my writing has subconsciously picked up a "Bluish" tint to it. As in, I feel like I'm talking like the character whose murder-mysterious, electrifying world I've currently fallen into..
To book lovers the world over, pick up this read for your next escapade. It's crackling with intelligence (there are more esoteric literary, political, and academic references in this novel than snow flakes on my front lawn), brimming with one-of-a-kind analogies ("If Servo were in a Pulitzer Prize-winning play, he'd be the Painfully Tragic character, the one who wore bronze suits and alligator shoes"), full of marvelous observations ("The fluorescent lights made a soured halo around his hair so he looked like a hand-painted Jesus one finds hanging on clammy walls of churches that smell of Gruyère." And also, "Shutting down disturbances…was the only reason Ms. Hambone ever emerged from her office, where she allegedly spent her day shopping www.QVC.com for Easter Limited-Quantity Collectibles and Goddess Glamour Jewelry."), and populated by extremely three-dimensional, larger than life characters that threaten to step off the page and invite you to a cup of coffee, or, depending on who you're dealing with here, invite you to go camping only to leave you stranded in the forest.
There I go again, talking like the narrator of whatever book I'm reading at the time. It's a pesky habit I have.