Oh my word. What a day. Whilst everyone in Hillsdale rejoices at the threat of a snowstorm, I am stuck indefinitely in the Upper Peninsula.

This wouldn’t be so bad if I loved snow or if I enjoyed talking on the phone to rather unpleasant strangers about something I don’t know much at all. As it is, I believe today I set a record for strongest detestation of snow and of having to speak with airline people (maybe it’s just a personal record, or maybe it’s the current record). But this is all just a huge character building experience…or something. Calvin’s dad would say that right now, so I’ll just tell myself the same thing. Oh, life.

Speaking of Calvin’s dad, he just walked through my front door. Well it’s really my dad, but the similarity is uncanny: the foggy glasses, the somewhat disgruntled yet triumphant expression, the simple hat and the dripping of snow at the front door—he came to life out of the comic book it seems.

Well, now I must steam some asparagus. And continue calling people, begging them to get me to Spain somehow and soon.