Yeah, so I was a little cocky when I mocked the New England snow. I’m in Santa Fe, NM, there’s quite a storm and I’ve decided to hang out to see whether the touring conditions will be more favorable tomorrow.

It’s a cold and rainy snow, much like the snows of my New England memories. (What a dick, I haven’t been gone for a week and I’m reaching for nostalgia.)

Anyway, since the road between Tucumcari and Santa Fe was treacherous enough to bring trucks to 15 mph, I figured might as well sit back and be leisurely about a city that heretofore has been mythologic. Maybe tomorrow morning I’ll check out the Georgia O’Keefe Museum, and then if the snow lets up check out some of them real live, Native American pueblos that got up in these parts.

Meanwhile, there’s no reason not to check out what are supposed to be some of the best eats and margaritas in the neighborhood. Imagine now me writing something shitty/corny, like when life gives you sour citrus, make margaritas.