OMG

That sucked. After regaining core temperature indoors, and donning the warm, sweet-smelling pants, I went outside to move my car. It had been plowed in again. This time, the snow was denser and wetter, and I didn't have a good shovel to work with.

After a lot of hard work (I mean, a lot), I got the car free. I went inside to get the girl, and in the five minutes it took us to get out the door, I GOT PLOWED IN AGAIN.

I repeated the procedure, except that this time, a gigantic plow truck approached as I was nearly done. I stood in his way, a couple of feet into the road from the side of my car. He stopped for a while, just kinda looking at me. I wasn't looking at him -- I was looking at the plow blade. He went around me, by a couple of centimeters. No problem. This happened one more time, I think with a different truck, with the same result. I really think I would have let them hit me. That seemed like a better thing that getting plowed in again. Guess I wasn't entirely rational at that point.

It took a long time to get home, and there were several incidents of getting stuck on the way. The hill to my apartment wasn't clear, so I left the car on Mass Ave. We'll see if it's there tomorrow.

Today sucked even more than that sounds. I left a lot of stuff out, because it makes me tired and mad just to think about it. On the upside, a number of people were very careful and very thoughtful, and I saw strangers helping each other out. I got help from strangers, too.

One of them even called me "dawg," in a good way. That felt good. He was shoveling out his girlfriend's Volvo, and I said "Rear wheel drive in the snow!" and pointed at my Volvo. He said "Diss ma girl's car. She think it's cute." I said "Ask her how cute she thinks it looks with an iceberg on top of it," and he cracked up and said "Sheeit, dawg. Dass right!"

Shout-out to Pavel: I'm dreadfully out of shape, but my back doesn't hurt after shoveling out SIX TIMES (count 'em, including the earlier post). Form!

I should add

that my woman worked her ass off, too -- shoveling and sweeping and scraping and kicking and driving -- and that she's not the type to sit around and wait for the boy to do all the unpleasant/uncomfortable/hard work. She rules.

good freaking god

I left the car on Mass Ave last night, because I couldn't make it up the hill, and I couldn't get into any parking lots (from which I would have been towed anyway). Called the police, asked if I could leave my car, since I couldn't move it at all anymore. They said I wouldn't get towed unless I was obstructing the road -- there was a little merciful leeway in their policy on account of the weather. Made it to bed at 1am.

At 6am the police showed up. They were going to tow me. rojagato informed me through my door (I had slept through their visit), and promptly prepared to help me out. I told sadira to stay in bed, because she had already had plenty of fun.

Rojagato and I headed out with shovels and salt. I peeled off the new, frozen parking ticket (the fifth in three days?) We dug out, despite the plow that heaped some extra snow on top of us for good measure. A fellow approached us, and said hi. He explained why he had called the police (!). I looked up, perhaps ready to tear his throat out, and then realized that of all places on the entire, barren block, I had left my car at the mouth of his driveway. It had been invisible through the falling snow and the three-foot drifts the night before, but there it was now, plain as day. Jesus fucking Christ. I told the guy not to worry, that I would have done the same thing. He was very apologetic, and I tried to make it clear that I bore him no ill will.

I should have let the police tow me.

I made it up the hill with Rojagato, after numerous tries, and, using lots of salt (all we had, in fact), we made it onto my street. Three or four times, we dug the car out of the drifts and made a few feet of progress. Then we ran out of salt, and my feet grew numb. I left the car against a drift. They don't normally ticket on this street, and I left enough room for a modest plow to pass by. [Or not quite, in hindsight. Couldn't see the curb, y'know. Couldn't get closer, anyway.]

Went back to bed. While I slept, Sadira shoveled my steps and porch!

At 2pm or so, Rojagato suggested we rescue my car, since the road had been plowed just half an hour earlier. We went out again. She worked on the driveway, Sadira and I worked on the car. It was bad. Only the plows had come through, so they couldn't get past my car. As a result, the entire front of the Brick was buried in compacted snow, and the 50 feet of road behind it were unplowed. As we began to work, a neighbor came out onto her porch to bitch me out for obstructing the plow. Sadira noticed that the road to her garage was perfectly clear, and she had no reason to complain. I told her I couldn't hear her, and kept shoveling. She kept going. Finally, I yelled "Shut up! You think I'm here on purpose? You have no idea why or how I got here!" I told her to please, go ahead and call the police, because I wished I could get towed out. She kept going, so I yelled "GOODBYYYYYYE!!!", and that got her to turn away and walk back inside. She hadn't quite shut up yet, so I screamed

BYEEE! LOVE YOUUUU!

and that got her to shut her fucking sour cunt-ass bitch-hole. I took careful note of where she lives.

Called AAA, uncertain they would come at all. Three hours, they said. That was good enough for me. If the police arrived first, I would just have to pay for the service, that's all. While I got through to AAA, Sadira cleared the car's side and rear wheels, and Rojagato slaved at the driveway. When I came back out, I asked Sadira to go help with the driveway while I made the path behind the car accessible to a tow truck. I didn't care which tow truck.

AAA showed up 2.5 hours early! I had just barely finished skimming some of the snow away, and the truck got in without a problem. It was over in moments. I was free.

Next, I slid downhill to the service station, where I fueled up, and begged the attendant for 20 minutes of parking. He agreed, reluctantly. I ran up the hill and helped finish up the driveway. About 30lbs of leftover Fluffy sand (thank God for Fluffy) went on there. I ran down the hill, retrieved the car, and gunned it up the hill: throttle on for bare spots, off through the drifts. Miraculously, I didn't fishtail -- went straight as an arrow. As I approached the STOP sign at the top, I hit the horn. I needed all my momentum. With a station wagon full of onlookers and Rojagato as witnesses, I drifted sideways, beatifully, silently, perfectly onto my street, and regained traction at exactly the right moment to finish the turn and go straight. Nearly brought tears to my eyes. I backed into the driveway without incident. I danced outside the car and kissed the ground.

I'm buying a used Subaru first chance I get.

Why don't they make

1) A stripped-down, two-door Subaru Impreza that costs less than a fucking Jetta?
2) A new Honda Civic that doesn't weigh as much as an old Accord?
3) An economical Toyota coupe much less stupid-looking than an Echo? (Apologies in advance. Just an opinion, y'know.)
4) An economical Volkswagen coupe?

The top choice is still a 5th-gen Civic 5-spd coupe or hatch with A/C. No sunroof, please. First runner-up: previous-gen Impreza coupe -- of the two models, the one without the ridiculous foglights and boy-racer hood.

None of this will matter until I return to industry, but writing it down brings it a tiny little bit closer to reality, or something.