Last night marked the first official snowfall of the season.
As I stepped out of the student services building, I could hear the gasps and excited shouts of those who had crossed the breach between the artificial toastiness of the activities building and the frostiness of another cloudy, starry night just before I had. Based on who was doing the shrieking, and what I've cynically come to expect from this university's typical social climbing, fashion conscious, self-involved, petty princesses (most of whom delight in congregating around doorways and in hallways just before and after lectures so that it's impossible for anyone passing by to get through), I came to the conclusion that it was probably about someone's new Prada purse or Fendi fur and directed my attention elsewhere.
And had to gasp myself.
While I had been in the activities building for a little under 3 hours, little flurries of snow had made their long journey from the clouds to share their icyness with the sidewalk and roads. Everything was covered in fine, white powder; not enough to completely blanket, but just enough to give everything a white glow. And it was still coming down, slowly but surely.
Beautiful.
Compared to last year, this fall had been long and drawn out, accompanied by occasional days of pseudo-Indian summer. The length of the days might be shortening but the temperature was sticking firmly in the positives. And those who knew what was good for them (read: those who knew what lay in store over the next 8 months of winter - like mountains of snow, negative 40 degree weather and severe wind chill), were quick to take advantage of these days. I, myself, am proud to be one of them.
A few weeks ago, Mr. Name and I staged a winter protest. Upon opening the curtains and seeing the sunshine pour in, we were struck with a wonderfully impulsive, childish idea that, had we been 5, our parents would have dismissed in an instant. Unable to give up the idea of summer just yet, we dressed up in our warm weather wear, consisting of a sleeveless shirt, shorts and slippers for him, and spaghetti straps, a skirt and flip flops for myself. Armed with a Frisbee and light sweaters we bounded through the streets, laughing and procuring strange glances from passer-by's, while simultaneously putting in a quick call to invite along everyone we knew.
Despite the fact that only one friend showed up (in their defence, it was midterm season), we had a great time playing Frisbee barefoot on the main campus field. I couldn't aim right to save my life, but by the end of it my catching skills had improved significantly. The majority of people gave us strange looks in passing, and there must have been those who thought we were completely nuts, but it was one of those moments that everyone probably wished they were having instead. As if that wasn't bad enough, knowing that we all went back to my place afterward and had banana splits would have turned them green with envy.
Jealous? I know. Oh well, don't live in regret. Carpe diem!
Yesterday, though, the day had been cold as hell, as the many days before it, giving me a valid excuse to spend most of the day in the underground mall. It was the first time I'd been back in ages - all semester, in fact. My vow to not go over-budget again this year has thus far worked only because I have suppressed the shopaholic in me and avoided the malls all term. Yesterday was a great test of strength since I'd been so deprived, and I went a tad crazy; but I didn't buy anything (not even that bikini I decided I really needed despite the fact that winter was coming up and I didn't know anyone with a pool). I refused to give the little green man any satisfaction, and later that night, this was to be my reward; little flecks of polystyrene balls gently floating down, practically in slow motion.
So calm. So peaceful.
Welcome back, Winter.
