Winter

Dear Winter,

So, we meet again. I rather thought that after the stern talking-to I gave you last year about your arrival that you would be too much of a pussy to come back. But noooo...not you. You just prance into my life without a care in the world, with your bitter wind and cold temperatures and ugly snow. Some people might be fooled by the snow part, but I'm on to you. After a treacherous drive to MD this past weekend, amidst your frigid conditions and accident upon accident, I'm wise to your schemes. However, I'd like to thank my mother for her minute-by-minute weather updates (we should all stop mocking her for her Weather Channel addiction) and The Boy for rescuing me from a K-Mart parking lot and claiming that my paralyzing snow fear was "sweet" and not "completely retarded."

So, Winter, game on. Bring it. I dare you. I don't think you're at all aware that I don't plan to be in your clutches again next year if you dont back the f off this year. And you underestimate how adorable I look in hats. It looks as though you and I are going to be at odds yet again. I plan to write a strongly worded letter to your supervisor about this.

Just TRY to fight me when I'm in West Palm Beach. Just try! You should go back to your home on Whore Island.

Bitch.

Love always,
Sara