brrr. it's cold in here.

…there must be a parka in the atmosphere. People of the world, it. is. cold. Last night, I thought I'd get up and put on a sweatshirt. Not just any sweatshirt - my Les Miserables sweatshirt. And -appropriately so - I was pretty darn miserable. However, I wasn’t necessarily miserable about being cold. Instead, I was miserable because I couldn’t find it, and it’s pretty much my favorite. It’s my favorite because I played Cosette in a local production of this earth shattering musical when I was but a wee lass.

Anyhow, things have been going missing lately. The other night, my face wash was no where to be found. Also, my handy-dandy ipod shuffle went missing. I looked everywhere. I even took all the blankets off my bed, because that’s where I usually listen to it. Nothing. Now, it’s my sweatshirt. What’s more, a lot of left foot socks are also currently MIA.

I guess they could also be right foot socks. It seems like they’re usually the left ones, even if there is no direct difference.

This place is spooked. You should know that I’ve decided to name the ghost “Tony.” I really don’t like that name, but I feel like it suits him. Anyway, sorry about that tangent on my klepto-ghost. This blog is supposed to be about the cold and how I’m starting to grow tired of the whole situation:

Don’t get me wrong. I love winter. I love everything that winter stands for, but I am really pining for a little warmth. Gees, I really didn’t realize how much I flat-out, full-on love summer. I used to consider myself a fall/winter lover of sorts, and I think I still am - I’m just a little burnt-out on all this frigidness.

At any rate, the thing I miss most about warm weather is camping. Sure, it’s loads o’ fun to camp in the cold, but nothing beats a little warmth while you‘re doing nothing but poking fires, playing cards, and getting all slap happy and such singing James Taylor songs. If hope is the thing with feathers, than camping is the thing with awesomeness. So, here’s what: let’s meet up later and build a campfire. Then, we can throw in ridiculous amounts of gravel while we pretend like it’s summer and we can have our own little private fireworks show. That might be nice.

Yours,
katie beth

((((and tony)))))

well, hell's bells. he's tryin to steal this blog.