Wednesday, December 22, 2004

winter freaking wonderland

It's snowing like crazy outside. I don't know how I feel about that. I have a total love-hate relationship with snow. I love it because it's so pretty and fluffy and my dog looks really funny playing in it. It's nice if you want to go skiing or sledding. There is a prime sledding hill up the street or, if I'm on campus, there's the Hollow, which is always full of all sorts of makeshift sledding devices this time of year, because everyone knows college students are either too poor or too lazy to go buy their own sled. Pieces of cardboard, mattresses, blankets, bottoms off of chairs, and trays from the CDR all litter the ground, but the trays definitely work the best.

Junior year, a couple of us were at McMurray's on a Friday night (surprise, surprise), but it was super crowded so we all left and decided to go sledding. We actually had one sled that someone had loaned us, but there were like five of us, so we grabbed the tops off of some trashcans we found in the basement. Yeah, those didn't so much work but we all took turns with the sled, or we just slid down head first like we were on a Slip 'n Slide. See? Snow good.

On the other hand, snow is a pain in the ass. I'm not very good at planning ahead, so whenever I have to be somewhere I ALWAYS forget that it's snowed and that I'll need extra time to clean off my car. By the time I get out there, I have about five minutes to unearth the driver's door, find my snow brush, and clean the four feet of snow off of my car. And usually, I've forgotten gloves. So I can either take the keys out of the ignition, run back into the house, perform a fruitless search of my room, and lose ten minutes I don't have, or I can just risk frostbite.

My first car, good old Big Blue, was so easy to clean off. At some point, the thingie that controls the heat (I'm not a mechanic, get off my back) had been replaced with something more powerful, so the car would heat up in like thirty seconds. I would just sit in the car and watch the snow melt off of the windshield. Big Blue had other problems, many, many other problems, but he redeemed himself with just this one feature.

My car now, however, takes about an hour to get good and warmed up. Which means, by the time I've scraped only a fiftieth of the windshield off, I'm ready to bash the glass with the snow scraper until the ice flakes off.

Ok, so now that I read this over, it seems maybe I have more of a HATE-love relationship with snow, especially since I tend to get kind of abusive with it when cleaning off my car.

That's alright. All I have to do is hit someone with one snowball and I'll remember the love. So. Who wants to volunteer?

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