The Long Winter

by Megan SelingOriginally published on Nov 22, 2007.Paul Hoppe
I had been staring at a wall of frozen pizzas for 15 minutes. Freschetta, DiGiorno, Red Baron, Tombstone. I didn't even want pizza. I looked pathetic, in slippers and an oversized Dance Hall Crashers hoodie that I almost never wear in public because, as a rock writer, I don't like to flaunt my undying love for uncool mid-'90s ska bands. But I didn't care. It was almost 1:00 a.m., and I had been at the Ballard Safeway for 45 minutes a