They shut down the merry-go-round in Westlake Center—the same merry-go-round that Paul Schell vowed to keep open during the WTO protests. Because of the snow. Walking from north Capitol Hill to Pioneer Square and back during a snowstorm is a workout. No need to hit the gym tomorrow. They didn't shovel the snow in front of Westlake Center—it's like they're not even trying. They didn't shovel the snow in front of the Babeland or Victrola or the Eagle either. But those places aren't shopping malls. Carrying umbrellas in a snowstorm is silly. They don't serve those awesome pretzels at Quinn's anymore—but the foie gras with toasted brioche is almost as good (and twice as evil). Is all this snow an anomaly? Or is this shit climate change and we'd better get used to it? Bars are packed when it snows. My New York Times wasn't delivered today but a friend who lives eight blocks away on the same street got his. Not fair. All the stores I was in today were empty—this snow, the week before Christmas, is going to push some beloved local stores into bankruptcy. (Go buy a book at Bailey/Coy right now.) Pike Place Market was delightfully deserted. I had no change in my pockets—no cash on me at all—and that somehow didn't make saying no to panhandlers any easier. The guy who works at Laguna Pottery is always very nice. The woman who sold me a tablecloth at Macy's seemed distracted. The woman working at See's Candy almost neglected to offer me a free sample. Hopvine was packed. Liberty was packed. My boyfriend rocks. It's snowing so hard I'm going to have to shovel snow again when I get home.

And finally: Yule drool? All our gifts come unwrapped? Not according to the fine print.