From Snow Blindness to a Warm Glow

Just got in out of the blizzard that's wrapped around this city like a scarf tossed by the wind. From the intersection at the end of my block to my apartment, I didn't see anything at all. I literally walked home with my eyes closed: It was the only way I could navigate the squalls of snow and ice. I abandoned an umbrella that a gust tore apart; I covered my face with my scarf but wished I had a pair of ski goggles. Then again, they would have only kept those needles of snow and ice from blowing into my eyes; I don't think they would have allowed me to see very much in front of me.

As I type this, I'm eating some tostones with Mexican white cheese melted over them. The tostones are like tortilla chips, only bigger, flatter (though not totally flat) and more intensely flavorful: I can really taste the nuttiness and graininess of the corn from which they're made, which is one reason why I love them. But, tonight I'm also eating them for the same reason I'd eat a grilled cheese sandwich, or anything else that's a vehicle for something hot and gooey and full of fat. I'm munching them between sips of the chicken broth I heated up.

As soon as I finish filling myself with hot viscosity, I'm going to dilate, take my mandatory (as if I'm protesting!) hot bath and go to bed. That's about the only sane place to be on a night like this!