One such night happened shortly after Christmas when I had returned back to school to get in a few days of work before classes started to earn some extra cash. I was going on a study abroad and needed money. It meant a week alone in my apartment, which was both strangely lonely and also strangely awesome because I got to watch what I wanted and listen to music when I wanted and everything was always clean. I didn't have to worry about classes, though, so I would work the closing shift at work and then walk home that night.
One such night it was snowing. And it was a glorious, beautiful Utah snow. Snow in the midwest doesn't get big and fluffy like this snow. It's grainy and sandy and scratches your face. This snow was exactly what snow was supposed to look like. It was Narnia. It was snow in chunks the size of a quarter. It was falling fast. Everything was still and quiet in the way it can only be when it snows that way. Glorious.
|This is what I thought it looked like.|
As I approached my apartment I saw some people outside the building throwing snowballs at each other. I smiled at them, feeling rather patronizing in my head. Oh, you juvenile people. Throwing snowballs. I've just been enjoying the best walk home of my life.
I got inside, took off my shoes, and went to go change out of my sopping jeans when I looked in the mirror and saw not the appropriately picturesque romantic heroine I had been imagining myself to be, but this:
|Which, apparently, is some kind of desirable make-up trick. |
Happy first snow, everyone! May we enjoy beautiful snows and romantic walks. . .until January. When it should all go away and be nice again.