"Date my Mom" is the worst show ever

I had some beers Saturday night, and coupled with my excitement about getting a foot and a half of snow, it's not totally surprising that I got home Saturday night and copied & pasted from weather.com. Once I find a meteorologist to marry and talk about weather and moon phases and stuff, I'm going to be the happiest person ever. Saturday night was pretty fun though. We went to our favorite bar in Beacon Hill. I was so sure that I recognized a guy from college, and Kate asked him, and his answer was that he dropped out of college. Turns out though he did go to Union with us, which makes me feel proud that people are hesitant to say they went there. Although I remembered thinking he was cute when he was a senior and I was like 18, he turned out to be really really weird. He wasn't really picking up on the hint that we didn't want to hang out with him anymore (even when Kate and I were standing with our back to the girls' bathroom, and to get out of the conversation we simply leaned back and went into the bathroom). But the we finally got out of it when he got kicked out of the bar, so that made things a little bit simpler.

The snow storm was fun yesterday, except no one wanted to play! Really, when did putting on snowpants and jumping in snow stop being fun? I spent an hour and a half shoveling the driveway last night with Kate, which was uber cool since 7 people live in our apartment and we were the only ones who did it. Today I have a sore back because I'm old, and apparently lifted from my back and not from my legs. I know that's how you're supposed to do it, but I don't really get what that means. I didn't take pictures of the snow yesterday, but Kate did. See spagbals.