The True Story of How Erin Lost Her Face and Jessica Went Blind

The skies have opened and there has been a terrible plague. Cold, white, dirt-that-becomes-water lies in mountains all over the place, transforming an otherwise friendly landscape into a blinding colorless hell that wets my pants. It wets my goddamned pants and alls I can do is put them atop the radiator and pull on another pair of pants. I hate wet pants. I love empanadas. Last night, Erin, Jessica, and I made some poor decisions. We decided to try to get the car out and drive to That's Rentertainment to rent another disc (or two) of House,(M.D). With a wee red plastic shovel, an ice scraper, and my feet, we scraped and hacked at the horrible drifts--to no avail. We lacked avail and we couldn't even take the car out to get any because we couldn't move the car. Then we made a tough decision. We decided to walk the mile or so to That's Rentertainment.

On the way, we stopped at a recently opened pizzaria for a warming and delicious snack. Erin and Jessica partook of the pizza, but I, seized by the gentle spirit of mild adventure, ordered the empanadas. They were, for the uninitiated, little tiny pastry pouches full of...fillings. I ordered the 1 Roasted Chicken and 2 of the San Telmo Chicken and they were really quite good. To tell the different varieties of empanadas apart, they brand them with little letters. Very cute.

So we walked the rest of the mile or so through the Lappish tundra and rented our movies. Erin stopped at a convenience store and purchased some treats and, for me, thirty-two ounces of delicious DogN'Suds Root Beer. Then, we started back. At my urging, we swung by Manolo's Pizza and Empanadas on Oregon... again. This time, I got 2 Roasted Chicken empanadas and only 1 San Telmo Chicken. It was different and exciting.

Upon arriving home, Erin realized that her face had dropped off from cold somewhere back on Lincoln Ave., and Jessica found that she was snowblind. I was all right, though.