Hey, guess what? It’s cold and snowy outside. So cold and snowy, in fact, that it’s all anyone on my Facebook feed is talking about.
Well, except my Arizona friends. Those a–holes keep posting pictures of short-sleeved kids shooting hoops in the backyard. (I kid, Phoenix folk. You know I love all you a–holes. Xoxo!)
I finally got brave enough to leave the house for the first time since Wednesday. Turns out, the cold really isn’t that bad. So here I sit in my favorite local wi-fi spot, sipping on a cold smoothie cuz hey, I’m East Coast Tough.
Where I’m From
I am from bare feet on warm sidewalks, from Lipton’s soup and Easter dresses.
I am from fireworks over Lake Erie, from steel, from rock and roll, from lake effect snow that can bury a town in a couple of hours.
I am from mulberry trees and cool, shallow creeks that turn to fast brown rivers in the rain.
I am from spontaneous water fights and dry wit; from a last name that most can’t pronounce let alone spell.
I am from breathless laughter often punctuated with tears, from sugar addiction.
From freckles and shyness and books.
I am from a religion of convenience rather than one of actual faith. One that still has a hold on my heart if not my head.
I’m from Eastern Europe, from Cleveland, from the suburbs, from buttered noodles and slumgullion.
I am from two kids who had babies of their own so very young but proved they could be the happy exception to the rule. From my father’s blue eyes and my mother’s fair skin.
I am from love, from stubbornness, from strong marriages. I’m from dependability. I’m from many things, but most of all, I’m from a good example.
Where are you from?