Il neige.

Last night, when I cleaned off my car, I noticed that this snow is perfect for snowballs, snow persons, and forts. It has a foolish consistency, a little sticky, pellety, crunchy and somehow a little fluffy. I wished there were people around with whom to frolic. But it was 1 a.m. When I got inside my apartment, I could hear someone screaming outside, but I felt too shy to go out and ask for their help building a snowman. With a corncob pipe (or a cigar) and a button nose (I only have baby carrots in the fridge) and two eyes made out of coal (I might have charcoal somewhere). Then it would come to life. Terrifying. And such a responsibility. Mea culpa, dear snowthing.

I haven't looked on my balcony lately. I wonder how much snow has accumulated there. If it's a lot, I could play quietly there. I've always wanted to make a Calvin & Hobbes-style snowman, like in the strips awesome Rhonda sent me the other day.

After work, I babysat CN's kids for a couple of hours. Well, not really, they were asleep the whole time. I thought about waking them up so we could hang out. But instead I just laid on the couch, and read Blogagaard's book and watched TV.

Ooh, did anyone watch Carson Daly last night? Yeah. His guest was Jennifer Love Hewitt. His ex. He seemed genuinely nervous. It was, if not great tv, interesting tv. His show was less sucktastic than usual.