Take that, American Airlines: I made it to Michigan despite your best efforts to stop me. And just in time, too.
How thoughtful of the weather — our white Christmas didn’t hit until after I landed.
I don’t think I’ve seen snow since I moved to San Francisco, so I am quite alright with this — I’m comfortably ensconced in a reclining chair by a window, watching the snow fall from the safety of toasty warmth. My parents have massively renovated their home since I was last here, adding a new living room above the garage which, I think, has more square footage than the two-bedroom apartment I rent. They’ve also finished their walk-out basement; it’s now opulent, furnished and spacious enough to make being a basement dweller sound almost sort of appealing.
Of course, the downside is that they live out in the middle of nowhere, so I’m not too jealous of their posh digs. But it’s nice to be here for now — like all extremes (see also: Japan), this sort of wintry isolation is quite enjoyable in moderate doses.