Last week I was bitching about a tornado. This week I’m bitching about snow.

Over the weekend, Tara came to visit. I woke up on Saturday morning, but it was cold and I didn’t think Tara was awake yet, so I just stayed in bed wrapped in my blankets like a burrito and stared out the window. It started to snow lightly, which then turned, right before my eyes, into a fully fledged whiteout snowstorm. It was at this point that I sprang out of bed, ran into the hallway, and collided with Tara, who was gesturing at the window and going, “Holy shit! I mean… wow. I think I’m going to be trapped here forever. Holy SHIT.”

My mom called last night and asked if there’s anything she needs to bring to my grandparents’ house when we meet there for Thanksgiving. I told her I need my winter coat, because after twenty years of living in a place that is prone to snow, I’m still an idiot. I’m literally walking around campus while it is fifteen degrees out wearing three jackets on top of each other.

“Okay,” she said. “So I’ll bring your white North Face jacket.”

“Mother,” I said, “we are WAY PAST the white North Face jacket. I need the gigantic black coat that makes it look like I’m walking around in a SLEEPING BAG.”

I’m wearing sunglasses everywhere even though it isn’t sunny, just to keep the wind off my face. My car door handle was frozen shut this morning. I got frostbite walking back from class because I forgot my gloves. I know this certainly sounds like bitching, but I’m actually just getting excited. Wind and snow and frostbite means WINTER IS HERE. CHRISTMAS IS COMING. I need to make some Pillsbury cookies or something!


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