Big storm, blah blah, chaos, destruction, woe, chaos, ice, gnashing of teeth, etc. New Hampshire is effectively closed with our first storm of the season. In February. And yet we have the audacity to be surprised and shocked that the weather is so bad.

Can you hear the wailing and angst simply pouring out of every teenage girl and newly-relationshipped individual in New England? The vast unfairness of not being able to get to school to ignore your teachers, not being able to go to work to gaze lovingly upon your dearest's emails, has created a sting that time, quite frankly, may never heal. Alas.

I know, it's the new cool thing to do, to be cynical and anti-Valentine's Day... but I take pride in knowing that the last time I "celebrated" Valentine's Day was when a semi-boyfriend, Derek, gave me a tiny pink teddy bear. When I was 16. I was cynical long before it was cool, with my standard line being, "I'd rather get flowers on some random Tuesday than have you feel proud of yourself for remembering a made-up holiday which has been shoved in your face on a daily basis for the past six weeks."

So, let it snow. The emotional scars can start to heal tomorrow, once the cruel separation has been relaxed. Or maybe Friday, if the weather stays bad.