So what? Here are some of mine. In them, you can see the challenge of parking in a snow covered neighborhood in NE Philadelphia. You see, there are rules. Once you dig out a spot on the street, it is YOURS. You claim the spot by leaving a trash can or a chair in it when you leave. And woe betide those who forget to make this important mark (as we forgot to do one evening this week). The spot that you dug after the first Snowpocalypse (20 plus inches), will most certainly be claimed by an asshole of a neighbor, forcing you to park in a spot still covered in the first storm's snow. This means you spent the day after Snowpocalypse 2.0 digging over 30 inches of snow from around your vehicle. Then, to add insult to injury, your asshole of a neighbor will drag their own trash can to the spot in front of your house. I've been fantasizing about dumping all of the excess sidewalk snow onto their car for days. But I won't do that. I'll just quietly stew and send dirty looks their way whenever I see them.
Snowpocalypse 1.0
Snowpocalypse 2.0
My poor puppies have to swim through snow in order to pee.
Oh, and on a completely unrelated note, I got a new tattoo. It is awesome. It is a gift from my wonderful husband for my upcoming birthday. I basically said to the artist (
Mr. Jason Goldberg, Olde City Tattoo), "I want a stake through a heart, with some blood." Yeah, I'd want to punch me too for that extra clear direction. I think he did a wonderful job.
Yes, it hurt. If you want to have a twenty minute conversation about the pain, drop me a line. There were moments that I thought I was going to lose it. And then, ten minutes after I was done, I was planning my next tattoo. Go figure.
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