I’m sitting in front of the fire on the couch in the living room, mostly watching Veronica Mars on DVD. I can’t help but notice, though, how beautiful it is outside.

My backyard is a forest. My backyard is a glassy, frozen lake. My backyard is a hill made for sledding. My backyard is laden with the tracks of animals. My backyard is covered in a blanket of fresh, white snow.

My backyard is Narnia.

Oh, my God. I wishhhhhhhh.

Mr Tumnus could even bring me presents.

Dude, if I could slip through my closet door and wind up in Narnia, I would never come back. Me and Mr. Tumnus would play gin rummy (he’d have to teach me how because I currently don’t know what that game is) and drink tea in the afternoons. Our evenings would include reading to each other and babysitting for the Beavers occasionally. Sometimes we would have potlucks and all the residents of the forest could come over for a good time. I’d learn to knit so Mr. Tumnus could have a variety of wildly colored scarves to keep his neck warm when he went out in the snow.

In my version of Narnia, there would be no White Witch. Fuck no, because that bitch ruined everything. I don’t want to escape to a world that’s worse that this one.

Oh, I also just wanted to throw this in really quick: you know how sometimes you feel like you need to sneeze, and you even get so far to making that ugly sneeze-face that happens when you’re just about to sneeze? Yeah, all that happens and then you are sitting there, stuck and waiting for your sneeze because all of a sudden, out of nowhere, your sneeze is nowhere to be found? That just happened to me. How does that happen? Where do all those almost-sneezes go? Narnia?