I am trying so hard this year to really be okay with this whole winter thing. With this being my nineteenth winter, I should be okay with it by now. My only problem is a serious penchant for slipping (i.e. last night in socked feet in the living room, this morning on my way to a lovely breakfast) and poor circulation which deems the feetsies and handies completely icy most of the time. Things I do like about winter, though, will be compiled here to create an ongoing sense of positivity and hope for the following dark, terrifying months!

• mornings where the sun is shining through my window, I am under three blankets, and there is no sense of urgency to remove myself from the womb.
  
• the smell of fireplace fires wafting out of houses on the walk home.
• all of that typical "beautiful glittering falling angelic snow" bullshit that we hate to love.
  
• the homour associated with survival basically being at the complete mercy of Mother Nature for a good 4 months, at least.

As long as I surrender myself to winter boots and my dad's enormous 1985 egg-shaped burgundy parka for a while, I think I will make it. I will make it! And maybe have a nice time, too.

I guess the problem with winter is I have a really hard time motivating myself to get out of the house and get stuff done. What? Groceries? I'd rather lay in my bed. We're out of toilet paper? I'm knitting next to my space heater! The house is on fire? Well, at least it's warm.

Okay, maybe that last one was a bit much.

In any case, with academia simultaneously winding up (essays and exams) and winding down (as of December seventh it's all over), I can't help but be distracted by food and craft and essentially anything I should be doing other than this essay on local Latin American contemporary art and identity.

Q: Is writing in a blog something that I would like to do?

A: I think it is, but blogging as a medium always kind of weirds me out. I'm not really writing to anything, about anything, but for some reason I must be under the impression that I am writing to/about the most important things in the world. I kind of hate the Internet but when it comes to writing term papers, this is a pretty decent way to continue procrastinating and the pushing of keys makes me feel mildly productive, if not a little bit remorseful for selling out (again).
This is entirely egomaniacal, but maybe I should just get over myself and ride the wave of the WWW.

So here I am, blog world. Birthed from the loins of the real world and covered in amniotic goo.