Frightful.

A bug crawled up my ass yesterday while at the in-laws for a holiday get-together and as a result, I spent the majority of the time shitting it out. It must be emphasized that the homestead's indoor bathroom was an afterthought (the original being an outhouse- it was built in the early 1800s, you know) and is just off of the living room.

Lovely.

It's a good way to humble oneself, losing control of the bowels like that. Sure, it happens. But damn, it's better to happen in the privacy of one's own home and not in the midst of a party.

Anyway. I'm feeling a tad drained after all of my intestinal adventures, so I think I'll lay off my planned twizzlers, popcorn and junior mints binge today.

The snow is falling hard, when it isn't being blown sideways by the fierce wind. A classic nor'easter has arrived. Our traditional Sunday papers marathon (we read three- the NYT, the Boston Globe and Portland Press-Herald) will not take place as the car is already covered with snow and the roads looks treacherous.

There is cleaning to do so that we can spend the rest of the day on the couch or in bed, reading or watching cooking shows (oh, and a certain football game)without guilt.

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