Go listen to my friend Amanda MacGregor and her eight-year-old son Callum talk about sex on the podcast The Longest Shortest Time. It’s twenty-two minutes long and wonderful. Amanda and Callum, I salute you.
In case you were wondering, at this exact moment, it’s not snowing, but it was snowing earlier and I have no doubt it will snow again momentarily. It’s difficult to get around as a pedestrian – there is no footing or visibility, often you need to wade through a small, slushy river, and, because of the snow mountains, you basically have to walk into the street in order to figure out if there are any cars coming – and the drivers are MAD. They are mad all the time, at everyone. I’m thinking perhaps the city should set up seated massage stations at every street corner to help with the frayed nerves. Parking is impossible and everything is getting cancelled. Jamie told me this morning that the Boston Globe recently tweeted something along the lines of, For the foreseeable future, everyone will be late to everything. Yes.
|Last night, Cambridge. I think this one looks like an icecream sandwich.|
|If you look at the light, you can see it’s snowing.|
|This morning, Somerville. Look closely — it’s snowing.|
ETA one hour later: Snowing. And sunny. The sky is confused.