memo to anyone contemplating a visit.

First and foremost, it's really fucking cold out. Please, don't suggest that we "go for a walk," "visit a funky little town," or "move to California." We've tried it all. (Except California.) It was nice to see Felicia today. Well, it was nice to see her during the parts of the day when we were indoors, sipping hot cider, shopping for books, or eating ice cream (in a perverse way, frozen treats were far less excruciating than I'd anticipated). During the parts of the day when we were trudging around Providence in search of eats, it was not quite so nice. But if this is the price we pay to see Felicia before she heads back to Chicago (psycho), we'll accept that.

Side note to self: try to find out why Providence has thirty-four Japanese restaurants within a tolerable 9°F walk of each other.

If you want to visit, let's aim for a July timeframe, shall we? By then, the icicle on my nose will probably have thawed. My wool-turtleneck-induced acne will have cleared up. I won't feel quite so guilty when you call out sheepishly from the back seat, "Could you turn on my seat heater?" (There isn't one.) We might even be able to meet up at the beach.

On second thought, I hate the beach. And if you come now, you might get to see all-wheel-drive in action. We've got the spare bedroom all set up, and we're a short fifteen minute drive from the casinos! We established this tonight when we stopped to waste some money on the way home from Providence. That's another story. I hate that stupid animatronic old Mohegan lady with the bad mojo.