Someone asked me what blogging was before. Aside from being more than slightly behind the times, my explanation to this person was 'online complaining'. That being said I guess it's a good thing when I struggle to find subject matter. Let's just go with my recent trip to Rochester for a wedding.

For the most part, it was pretty uneventful. I had been thinking (again) about the idea of moving back to NY lately. After all, I do have 90% of my family still living there and a handful of friends. You know, the responsible, family-oriented ones. I'm not sure I'm really that type, but that's neither here nor there. Affordable housing is hugely abundant there as well. However, it seems that every trip back up North confirms the reason(s) I left. Number one of which being it's too damn cold.

I forgot how cold it actually can get. Of course, I wasn't in Minneapolis when it was -58 degrees, but it was -10 degrees if you factor in the wind chill. I am factoring. It was that kind of cold where you go outside and your nostrils stick together when you breath. Cold cold. Leave your car running for at least 20 minutes cold. I just plum forgot how fun that is. And the site of snow banks towering 2 stories in the parking lots. Oh good times!

The other thing I noticed on my trek to the arctic north is how large some of my relatives have gotten. I mean, obese. I have heard of certain cities being 'healthier' than others and now I think those surveys have a point. It's probably much easier to sit inside with a bag full of ding dongs when it's always grey outside and a striking negative 10 degrees. I think I have at least 3 morbidly obese relatives and I feel for them, but holy crap, when did that happen? The whole lack of significant others in the life probably attributes to that in some way (depression) but I think they have literally doubled in size. I mean, I'm the first one to tell you my favorite restaurant is Dunkin Donuts, but you have to know when to say when.

Obviously I hadn't seen the fam in awhile. I had only met the groom once, but I have decided I like him because he danced. I have decided I like those who don't take themselves seriously and will at least attempt to cut-a-rug. I even get mad at myself for feeling self-consious and requiring booze to do this. I was very surprised that my 92 year-old grandfather was one of those out there cutting a rug. Although he did look much older than the last time I saw him (1999) I have to say I was very impressed at his energy and mind. He got my uncle to the rehearsal dinner after he got lost from memories at least 80 years old. Impressed. I can't remember things a day after they happen for the most part.