I woke up with that same giddy feeling as a five-year-old on Christmas morning. (Note: I do not celebrate this holiday, but “waking up on Chanukah morning" doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.) I leapt off my bed and clamored up to my roommate’s top bunk to get a good view of the picturesque snow scene glimmering outside our window. It was the first dusting of the season and it looked like something out of a catalog advertising North Face coats or furry boots. The sprawling hill our house stands on was covered in sparkling white fluff and the big trees at the end of the sidewalk added to the magical morning setting.
Now, I am not the biggest fan of the snow. There was one unfortunate event during my senior year of high school in which I tried to brake my car at a stop light but instead slid forward on some black ice and wound up spinning into the intersection, peeing my pants a little in the process. I’m still alive (hi!) and the only destructive accident I've been in since then was when I hit a parked car while the its owner was unfortunately sitting inside. Because of this small yet scarring incident, the snow was not really my friend, and in fact became somewhat of an enemy.
This year, the magical snow setting came a little prematurely, leaving most of my friends at a loss, without our winter coats, boots, hats, gloves, ski masks, hand warmers, etc. The first day snow fell; I trekked through the 2-3 inches “dusting” the ground in worn-down Ugg boots with a hole in their tops and a light fall jacket, furry hood propped atop my chilly head. Days passed and the cold only got worse. It snuck in through the broken window in my room, icicles in my hair and my hands too cold to move when I woke up in the morning. I walked to class, only to see kids falling left and right, skidding across the sidewalk. They would be better off strapping on ice skates and making figure 8s down Washtenaw.
We were forced to go out at night in snow boots. “Frackets,” or “frat jackets,” were a must, and the game of finding the best hiding spot for your coat inside the frat house began once again. It was a hard thing to admit, but winter had officially started.
The snow may be a pretty thing, sure. It looks nice from the comfort of my warmest blanket, and when I look out the window I understand the attraction to the beautiful, picturesque scenery outside. But the snow is not and will never be my friend.
So, my dear friends, until next spring. I will be hibernating under my covers from now til approximately mid-May.
