I hate snow. Snow is cold. Snow makes my toes go
numb. Snow makes my joints lock up like The Tin Man.
Snow is God’s dandruff. At least it’s pretty.
Snow days in my neighborhood have always meant
sledding, and lots of it. We have this retention basin near
my house called “The Pit” and its steep hills are perfect for
hightailing it down the slopes on a piece of flimsy plastic.
I’ve bruised and bloodied myself plenty of times from a
short list of sledding accidents, but every snowfall I return
for that miserable cycle of 10-second adrenaline rushes,
followed by five minutes of arduous hill-climbing.
Last Wednesday, I made my very first snowwoman. She
was fabulous. Her name was Gertrude. It took surprisingly
less time than I thought, and she turned out much
better than I could have imagined. I have no shame when
it comes to playing in the snow, and I think Laura Herzog
should get her butt outside.
Although I only did this once my freshman year, my
favorite activity on a snow day was using the snow to
make my own snow cone. Why go through the trouble of
grinding up ice with a machine when all you have to do
is scoop up some snow from the top of a mound (make
sure it’s clear of foreign contaminants first) and add your
favorite cherry-flavored syrup? Best snow day treat ever.
My snow day: emerging from my snowed-in bunker,
scraping out my car, cranking “The Song Remains the
Same” and driving adventurously (but safely) through an
What did I do over the great snow of ’10? Well, I got
back from class on Tuesday night and didn’t leave my
room until Friday morning. I dislike walking in snow because
of an ACL and meniscus tear in my knee. But it
means no school … sometimes. And Chinese food (even
though Tan May was the only restaurant delivering on
Wednesday). And awesome snow ball fights. But mostly
Despite its lack of natural sunlight, living in an inside
room in Eickhoff has its benefits, especially on a snow
day. Instead of trekking across campus from Townhouses
or, worse, apartments, arriving a dripping, sniveling winter
mess, I can saunter downstairs for a disappointing
meal. Or watch my poor peers shuffle in while I lounge
with slippers and a cup of tea. The point is, I don’t have to
leave my building. Snow days are conducive to a hermit
lifestyle, and it is a beautiful thing.