Snowmageddon Part 2: This Time It's Personal

or how to turn Snowmageddon into Snowapaloosa

With friends by your side, all things are enjoyable.

As I eluded to in the last post, pretty much the entire morning staff was holed up at the downtown Hilton Tuesday night in an attempt to insure we all made it to work and on the air by 4:30am.

Let me throw this out there: TV people are F-U-N!!

I don't know if our goofiness is a mechanism by which to deal with all the horribleness of human nature, boredom or just some "serious" gene lacking in our DNA. Whatever. We're an irreverent lot with the ability to find the twisted humor in almost anything.

That said, we all made the very best of our sleep over Tuesday night.

Once we made sure we all had our overnight bag in order, the real decisions had to be made. First things first, Jill, our Pittsburgh Today Live producer procured two large vats of wine. Score! Beets and I made a run for the essentials...snacks! and lots of them. Double Score!!

Next up, Beets and I changed into our "lounge wear" aka/jammies, headed for Jill and Carrie's room, cracked open the vino...

tore open the feed bags and let the partay begin.

We weren't going to let a little snow stop our fun. What do grown women, loopy on wine do in a snow storm? Why jump on the bed, of course. Warning. Those ceilings are LOW. But, hey. What's a few knots on your head when your amongst friends, right?

A knock on the door and here comes Patty and Brandon. Brandon tried his hand at bed jumping.

Knock, Knock here comes Dickie and Casey to join the festivities and open the second bottle of vino.

Hurry up with the uncorking, boys. We're getting dry over here.

Knock, Knock. Here comes Matt and Dave. The gang's all here now. What do you suppose the weight restriction is on that bed?

Sufficiently buzzed, we decided to get some grub to soak up the alcohol. Obviously the camera was just as blurry-eyed as we were.

How many adults can you fit into a hotel elevator?

We pretty much took over the bar at Max and Erma's for dinner and $3 kick-ass Margaritas.

Dear Menu: Sure I'll have another Rita if you insist.

Jimmy McParkway finally showed up & snapped a shot with me and Beets...in our jammy tops. Aren't we fetching? LOL!

On the way back we wreaked havoc in the plaza...snowball fight, carousing in the fountain (sorry the photos are really dark)

and snow angels in front of the hotel.

And we all made it to work on time for more non-stop storm coverage... some, mainly me and Beets a little hung over and in need of the brain-cell triggering power of java. Delicious, life-sustaining Toasted Almond java to be exact. Mmmmmmmm... Thanks Crazy Mocha. We owe you.

So to recap. Staying alone in hotel during latest storm of the century... BLOWS. Sequestered in a hotel with lots of crazy work buds during the second hit of the storm of the century... ROCKS!!

And that's how we turned a miserable Snowmageddon into a spectacular Snowapaloosa. As much fun as it was, enough now. I'd rather we all got stranded together at the beach next time.

I Sorta Survived Snomageddon 2010 And All I Got Was Wet Pants

...and a sore back ...and no parking spot ...and a slight hangover ...

(these events are so epic, it will take more than one post to convey. you've been warned)

Okay, so last Thursday I get a call from my boss asking if I want to be put up at the Hilton Friday night at the company's expense to insure I get to work on Saturday morning. Something you might not know about me, I don't watch the news--any news--when I'm home. Ergo, I was completely unaware of the impending Close Encounter of The White Flake Kind poised at our collective doorstep overnight Friday.

But being that they NEVER offer to put us up anymore, I jumped at the chance. I also figured I could slip Geo my room key and we could have a romantic hotel interlude on the company dime. We were both excited by this prospect until our adult self did the math and being the kill-joy it is, channeled Dwight Schruite and bellowed these facts:

FACT: I would have to go to actual sleep by 9:00pm in order to rise at 3am to face a 12+ hour day.

FACT: It's not a suite, nay one room with one TV poised directly at the bed

FACT: Geo would want to watch TV all night

FACT: I would murder him in his sleep for keeping me up when I have to be up by 3am to endure a 12+ hour day because, you know...it's all about me

So I reluctantly left my Honey's company at 8pm, trudging through the first eight inches of part one of Snowmageddon to catch what turned out to be the last trolley to Buffalo, NY...er, I mean downtown SnowBurgh to sit alone in my lonely room with no one to frolic in the sparkly white stuff. All I really wanted to do was stay home snuggled on the couch with Geo in front of a roaring fire eating freaking Bon Bons and watch the telly. But, NOOOOOO. I had to go into television.

*sigh*

It looked like this when I went to bed.

It looked like this when I woke up.

WTF??!? It.Never.STOPPED!

My 1000 yard journey from hotel room to newsroom was blocked by 15 inches of snow drifting to more than 20 inches, enormous felled tree limbs and a constant fall of quiet, heavy, steady snow that showed no sign of letting up.

We ended up being on the air non-stop for seven hours. It was incredible. Fortunately our boss had the foresight to schedule an extra body on the crew to provide breaks for everyone. I got to make a food run with one of the photogs around noon. The city roads were horrendous. We were in a Jeep and still fishtailing everywhere. The intersections were the worst where the snow that was plowed collected into 15+ inch deep spans impassable by anything except SUVs.

As I was dealing with work-related storm issues, poor Geo was home alone facing this.

My beloved Rita's under this mess.

All in all, we fared pretty well. Just some broken limbs and a crushed bush, but enough about me. Hey Ooooo!! Come on. It's funny!

Hey look, kids! It's Mount Recycle and his little pal Clyde the Gnome.

Yeah... We're not gonna be using that bin for a while.

I ended up staying yet another night in town because the trolley which I'd used to travel to work, closed operations due to storm-related happenings. So much for my bright idea to take public transport.

Geo finally sprung me on Sunday. I could not WAIT to get home. Of course that only lasted one night then it was back to the Hilton for Snowmageddon Part 2: This Time It's Personal. At least on Tuesday night I wasn't alone. There were a ton of us staying over which turned Snowmageddon into Snowapaloosa. More on that in the next post.

Meanwhile, it's day six. It's STILL snowing. There are still people without power. Most of the city limits remain covered in two feet of unploughed snow. A lot of people can't get out of their houses because of excessive snow and fallen timbers blocking their exit. The city streets are horrible. Epic fail on their part. City officials simple cannot get their shit together. I think the urban brain trusts are up to plan C or D or X for snow removal.

The Burbs on the other hand did an outstanding job. The main roads in our little town are perfect and most of the streets are clear to at least one lane of traffic. However, six days later there are still people in our neighborhood who haven't dug out their cars like this one.

UGH!! Yes, that is a car's side view mirror weakly peaking out of that snow mound.

But we have seen the return of the Pittsburgh Parking Chair!!

It's kind of a tradition around here to place a chair, recycling bin, table, whatever in the spot you've painstakingly and painfully cleared out in an attempt to prevent some A-hole from parking in your spot before you return from work. Jimmy McParkway tells me the notorious parking chair is illegal, but whatev. It's Pittsburgh, Dude. People uphold tradition here.

We had a blizzard in '93 in which people in my burb were actually having fist fights over parking spots. The police decided to collect all of the parking chairs and stash them at the pool parking lot in an attempt to stem the feuding.

It's a humorous sight, isn't it?

Okay, I admit it. It really is beautiful, but damn it's getting old. Every day I trudge through snow. The bottoms of my pants are constantly wet. Every morning poor Geo has to shovel yet again. The bleakest part is it's only mid February and there's no warm up in sight. This shit's not going anywhere until April. Seriously.

On a brighter note, because I am an optimist--I know, right? Who knew?--our vodka is staying nice and chilled on the back deck. :-)

Anywho, until the big thaw occurs coinciding with the end of days sometime in 2012, here are some more photos from the morning after. You have to admit... It really is pretty.

A Bit Of Mea Culpa Bidnezz...

Apparently I have an enormous bounce rate.

No, I'm not referring to the ample, unintended movements of my middle-aged boobies or buttocks although they tend to shake their groove thang without any help from me.

Rather this here Bloggie-Blog Posty-Post (that's its white-girl rap name..word) has a viewer bounce rate of like...1000%. Okay more like 79-80% which from what I gather might as well be 1000%. I'm just a Cave Woman ignorant of the laws, physics and voodoo of the computer sphere, but even I know having the interweb block perspective readers from viewing these ramblings is a bad thing... even if the Internet is doing it for your own good.

Anywho, I'll get my crack IT staff, namely my computer genius 12-year-old nephew to work his magic and see what's what. That is if we can tunnel out of this freaking so-called winter wonderland crap before his birthday in April.

But that's a tale for another post...or three.

In Which It Has Been A Difficult Couple Of Days

And, no. I'm not talking about the ginormous snow storm. I will talk about it... at length and peppered with the usual amount of hyperbole thrown in for added effect at a later date.

But not today.

In the midst of the madness on Sunday came a call. You know the one. The one in which you know something is very, very wrong.

One of my coworkers whom we referred to as Big Paul, passed away. He had a heart attack after shoveling two feet of snow from the remainder of his driveway. I had just taken over the reigns of Master Control from him that morning. He was perfectly fine. His usual acerbic self, regaling me with the unorthodox conversation he had with our new News Director who fortunately has an outstanding sense of humor as well as a healthy perspective about what is and is not worthy of fretting over.

I never thought that would be the final conversation I'd ever have with him. I am in complete shock.

Paul has not always been the easiest person with whom to get along, but his crusty exterior masked a soft heart and considerate soul. And boy did he love his son, affectionately referred to as his "little man". He and Jonathan were extremely close. Jonathan is a Freshman in college living on campus. I can't imagine how devastated he is. It breaks my heart.

Then my boss's Mom had a heart attack and died while he was talking to her on the phone at the same time another co-worker was rushing his wife to the hospital. And if that isn't enough awfulness, I found out a dear former employee's husband was hit head-on Saturday night landing him in the ICU for the next week or so. Thankfully his injuries are not life threatening.

Life is so fragile...

It can change in a matter of hours, minutes, seconds. It's so easy to take life for granted, and then it's gone... Bombarded with all this sadness and loss, I can tell you I held onto my Geo a little tighter last night.

It has been a really rough couple of days. Enough. Enough already.

Friday Photo #37

or this is why he used to be dinner...

Okay, so Tuesday was Ground Hog's Day, my favorite weirdo American tradition of all time. 20,000 sober and not-so-sober crazies gather in the middle of freaking nowhere, namely Punxsutawney and wait for hours in the bitter cold for a group of tuxedoed, top-hatted doofuses known as the "Inner Circle" to yank a nestling hog from his comfy hole in order to predict whether there will be six more weeks of winter or not. (and yes, that does sound dirty)

Many years ago I was one of those sober crazies standing around the Knob, freezing my make believe man-marbles off waiting for the Hog Extraction. I have to admit...it was fun. Like Antarctica cold, but fun.

Anywho, I was going to post this photo on Tuesday, but the little bastard saw his shadow. (SURPRISE! not!) and I was a little bummed. As you may know, the last few years I've grown to absolutely despise winter.

Then Wednesday came and went, plus I was more than a little fecal-faced from the monthly wine tasting...then it was Thursday and I was moving a little slowly--okay a lot slowly--what with the one Greyhound+four glasses of primo French wine+morsel of fine foods+resulting double vision from the prior evening's consumption ...

So now it's Friday and what the Hell... it's my photo of the week, because I'm lazy. Don't judge. It's not attractive.

I will leave you with this. Long ago when this whole zany annual prognosticating tradition started, the men of the coveted Inner Circle would let Phil (that's his name) do his little shadow puppet prediction... and then serve him up for dinner.

Yeah. They would eat him. I think they were on to something there. Seriously. Perhaps some old practices should be revisited. Just saying.

These awfully grainy pictures were shot from the monitor at work using my phone. It kinda adds to the grossness of the outcome. Plus what is up with that Dude? He's getting way to personal with the hog. (that's what she said!)

This last one is for my sister, Weezy who is a lover of all things Troy Polamalu. It's from an upcoming Super Bowl commercial. I don't think any of us would mind hearing bad news from his mug. Enjoy, Sis!

One Incredible Night of Music... In Our House!

or OMG! That's Francis Dunnery playing in our dining room!

Okay, so last night one of our favorite musicians performed... in our dining room!!

Seriously!!! Dude, I'm not kidding. He played in our HOUSE!

A bit of background:

Geo and I will be celebrating 25 years married next month. For a while now we've been trying to figure out how to mark this momentous milestone. Do we go away? If so, where? Do we have a party? If so, when? Do we sit on the couch, scratch our respective asses, eat junk food, watch the telly and burp really loudly? If so... WTF? That's just any old Tuesday.

Then Geo had the proverbial light-bulb-over-the-head, AHAH! moment and threw out the whole hosting a Francis Dunnery house concert idea. Brilliant!

We have been on the perspective hosting list ever since he started performing in people's homes exclusively about five years ago, but we never bit because of the cost and lack of substantial space in our tiny home. But this time we said, what the ef? Screw the spacial constraints. Let's do it!

And so we did.

And it was FAN-F*CKING-TASTIC!!!

So worth the few hours of testiness and snarking between me and Geo leading up to the evening's events. All you marrieds out there know what I'm talking about.

Most of our guests had arrived by the time Francis and Erica pulled in the driveway. We ushered them upstairs to our bedroom for a bit of private time before the show. The first thing Francis did when he walked into our room was say, "Right. Well first things first, I'm jumping on this." No, he wasn't talking about leaping on the bed. He grabbed my mallets and started banging out a tune on my steel pan. He hadn't even taken his coat off yet. And here's the sickening thing: even though he had no idea how to play the drum... he still was able to put out a tune much more melodic and rythmic than anything I could have done.

Amazing. Musicians. They really rock... at everything.

We spent the next 30 minutes or so chatting about anything and everything... from the set list for the evening (we got to choose the songs he played) to his child custody issues to astrology to their house in the Poconos to the marvels of iPhone apps to touring baseball fields this summer.

It was unbelievable. Francis. In our bedroom. Talking and laughing like we've been friends for years.

Then the show started and it was truly magical. Our friends, most of whom had never heard of him or his music, became enchanted by his talent, uplifting musical message and his humor. We had chosen the Astrology Show which means he goes through the zodiac signs and explains their characteristics to the corresponding audience members between songs. It was a blast. Lots of laughs and more than one or two insights. He played with our friends and they responded in kind.

A good time was definitely had by all. His irrepressible charm had worked it's magic. By the end of the evening, most of the folks in the room were Francis converts vowing to catch him perform again. Afterwards, Francis mingled with the crowd, chatting, signing autographs, graciously posing for photos.

And to top it off, Mr. D really dug my chicken curry. He even wanted the recipe. For any of you who have English friends, you know the Brits are connoisseurs of curry... so HUGE compliment there, which made the Italian in me very, very happy indeed.

We could not have asked for a more memorable means by which to mark our milestone. We are still grinning from ear to ear thinking about it all. His beaming brilliance definitely took the chill off of a bitter winter night.

So a big, fat, Burgh bear hug of thanks goes out to Francis and Erica for giving us a memory that will last our lifetime. It has been a pleasure and privilege getting to know you over the last couple decades. Here's to many more gatherings spent together.

Not a bad start to 2010. Not bad at all.

Friday Photo #36

WTF? CLOWNS!?!??!!! For my Birthday?!?

Okay, so like many establishments, a local South Side restaurant partakes in one of those ubiquitous rewards programs in which you eat there for like 20 years in order to receive ten bucks off of your dinner. It's kinda annoying, so naturally I signed up. And naturally I always forget my card. At this rate, I'll be well into my Zombie, post-death years before I see any kind of pay off. Mmmmm... brains... Whatev.

Anywho, they sent me a coupon for a free birthday dinner. Sweet, right? No. Not sweet. The dill weeds put a freaking clown on the card!?

A CLOWN! To me!

WTF?! And I couldn't even cut the bastard off the card because the coupon was positioned BEHIND his disgusting fat-ole-creepy-painted-John Wayne Gacy-pedophile mug.

What were they thinking? Seriously. It's like they don't even know me.