Everybody need my sunlight

Blah, winter is fired. Aside from last weekend's "sledding by any means necessary" adventure, I have gotten nothing worthwhile out of the weather. Even the snow is still that unpleasant fluffy business. Who wants that crap? It doesn't pack into snowballs or snowmen or good sled trails. It just fluffs around and acts all sullen. Hey, snow, it's winter. We're all cold. We're all a little damp. Quit acting like you're the only one around and get exciting.

I mean really.

I got Anthony Bourdain's new book, The Nasty Bits, free in the mail the other day, and I have been rather enjoying it. Ostensibly it's about one crotchety New York chef's love/hate relationship with being a chef, but the more he waxes fondly irritable about the addictive combination of unique pressures and deranged environment found in kitchens, the more I find myself thinking not about the food industry but about working backstage on plays. Man, if only that was a real job and not the competetive, unpredictable, unreliable mess it is, I would be all over that. Figures everything I would actually want to do is useless niche crap.