You Joan, pho and the theater

The snooze button is such a ferocious friend.  But today I didn't feel too bad about it.  (Oh!  If you are considering moving to this fine state - and you know who you are - I give the green light to skip the rest of this post.)

The background: I got home very late last night from my fabulous cultural event (tackling #67, friends!) with Sara. Earlier this month, she had come across two tickets to Cat on a Hot Tin Roof at the Guthrie.  Part of my 101 in 1,001, as you can see on the list, is taking advantage of all of the rich theater, art and cultural events that the Twin Cities offers.  I am not well-versed in the theater scene at all, so I figured I had homework to do.  I read Cat on a Hot Tin Roof last week for the first time.  It was so much fun - and more seriously, so much more meaningful - to have read the script and the playwright's directions before seeing the play unfold in person.  There was dialogue I couldn't wait to see acted out and parts I interpreted differently when I saw them in person.  I thought the whole thing was fabulous.

I got home really late!  I set the alarm clock warily (and wearily, ha ha) for 6 a.m. in hopes of getting an easy run in before work, since I had other commitments at lunch and in the evening.  

But when the alarm sounded, I grabbed my shiny new phone and noticed that in addition to telling time, the main screen also included a large temperature reading.  This is two hours later, but it looked exactly like this.

I've run in that kind of temperature before.  I contend that it's possible to do it without being dangerous, assuming you have a huge facemask with only your eyes peeking out.  But is it fun?  You know, at 6 a.m. this morning, I begged to differ.  Snooze!

And later in the morning, when I went to work, I knew I had made the right choice.  This has been a pretty mild Minnesota winter, and I had forgotten what that sort of temperature with a breeze feels like on one's face.  I got into the car and noticed that the temperature had soared all the way to -9.

As an aside, this car provides song titles. Sort of.  It's correct maybe half of the time.  Sometimes it mashes together the song and artist, other times it's a completely random word.  I like to imagine that there was actually a song playing called "YOU JOAN."  It sort of sounds like an insult.  "You Joan!"

Then I went out to lunch and tried pho for the first time!  Yahoo!