Where's the snow?

I never quite understood what Seattlites meant when they said Seattle rain wasn't real rain. What is real rain? Isn't water falling from the sky and soaking my mood considered real rain?

It took me coming back to Central New York and watching the raindrops splashing off the pavement outside my porch window to see real rain, not the Seattle mist.

By the way CNY, where's the snow? It's December 22nd and it's 45 degrees outside. What gives?

I'm rattling an idea in my brain for an alternative Christmas story, sort of a 'Miracle on 34th Street' meets 'Men in Black'. I think it'll be a fun project, although the more I think about it the less I'm motivated to start writing it. But I consider it a good way to step out of my element a little. I write way too many first person romance stories, and being a single male, I'm not really into creating a love life for someone else at this point.

My goal has become to write 1000 words per day. I figure if I can write that much, no matter what I'm writing, my motivation will stay up and I'll be knocking off small projects in no time.

I'm also trying to decide on submitting a flash fiction piece. It's hard being my own worse critic.