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I was so happy when it came.

The first snow invoked a sense of disbelief-

Could this be happening?

Was this really mine?

Was the snow here to stay, just for me?

The first flurries sent chills of curiosity, intrigue, and hope down my spine.

I spent all my time playing with it.

I snuggled into its cold embrace,

Lying there for hours, glad that I had finally found a home.

The snow made me feel clean, worthwhile, fresh.

It invigorated me, made me want to go, do, see, feel-

to love.

The fingers of cold air slithered into my lungs, invaded my body,

became a part of me in ways I hadn’t imagined.

Sometimes the cold frost prickled my skin, causing the pain of frozen flesh-

But the euphoria was worth the pain.

I was happy-

Until spring came.

I tried to hold on to the snow, I tried to keep it by my side-

Don’t leave me so soon! I miss you.

But the snow had already melted.

I naively thought that it would stay forever, that the promises of its white blanket would cover me always.

But I knew spring had to come.

I had known it all along.

Having chosen to ignore it, the inevitable shock was amplified tenfold and rattled my bones.

I was knocked to the ground, the air left my lungs, and I wept.

I wept for the companionship that I had lost.

Slowly, a warmth started to penetrate my body.

The sun had come out to comfort me,

sending beams of light to dance across my back,

Reminding me.

I looked up, gathered my forlorn limbs into a semblence of a skeleton,

and drug my weary body onto my feet.

I felt a warm breeze tease my hair and caress my face,

Whispering words of hope.

A smile crept across my face, slowly but surely erupting into a grin of elation.

Yes, winter was over. Yes, the snow had left me.

But it would return. One day in the fall I would feel the cold breeze again,

and remember.

Today, it is spring. Today, I will hope.

Today I am free.

Free to embrace the hope of summer and create my own reality.

Free to stop relying on the cold, steely determination of winter,

Relying on the sweeping course of mother nature that takes no detour for no man

To show me the way that I should go.

So, now, the snow is gone. And part of me mourns its passing.

It was a good winter.

But it will snow again. And, for now, I get to enjoy running free through the fields of tall grasses,

feeling the wind in my hair and the sun on my face,

and live.





Best. Weekend. Ever.

That is how I would describe my trip to Quebec. No question. It’s like everything that I imagined Canada convened into one weekend of snow, fun, and laughter.

I can’t really describe the awesomeness, so I’m just going to make a list of awesome things that we did. Yea.

1. Freaked out because we thought our car was going to break down, due to a combination of a check engine light, the automatic shut off over reacting when pumping gas, and the smell of gasoline as we drove down the highway, which prompted us to pull over and sniff until the smell dispelled and we deduced that it wasn’t actually our car.

2. Got utterly lost coming out of Montreal because the highways are just confusing, and ended up taking a crazy detour through small town Quebec and fueling beside snow mobiles while getting directions in French from the gas station worker.

3. Drove past moose crossing signs.

4. Were rudely dealt with by a subway worker 20 minutes before he closed and told that he was having a bad day and needed to go afterwards and would stop in the middle of a sub when it reached 11 o’clock, and laughed about the encounter for the rest of the night.

5. Stayed with an extremely welcoming couple who opened their home and made amazing Quebec food.

6. Ate my first beaver tail and ballroom danced while waiting for a ridiculously long zipline line which we ended up


7. Cheered on sled dogs as they ran down the roads of Old Quebec.

8. Marveled at the beauty of the frozen St. Laurence river in the winter time.

9. Slid down snow covered steps.

10. Saw houses that had tunnels protruding from their doors in attempts to prepare for a possibility of getting ridiculous amounts of snow and bars made of ice along the side of the street.

11. Watched amazing snow sculptures being sculpted by cool people.

12. Went inside an awesome castle hotel that is way more expensive than I’d ever be able to pay for.

13. Got a picture with Bonhomme’s royal snowyness himself.

14. Ate maple taffy, Putin, Crepes, and bagette with a delicious chese, peach, and almond topping, and drank, (well, really, gagged down in my case, apparently I’m not used to the taste of alcohol) a glass of wine with friends. So good.

15. Wandered around the streets of old Quebec and stopped in random little art galleries around the town.

16. Snowtubed down a ridiculously large hill in a raft full of 10 people overlooking the carnival itself.

17. Got ticketed by Quebec police for parking and not paying for a meter- oops!

18. Played bonanza for the first time and didn’t do too horrible. Though I’m not a fan of beans.

19. Walked around Quebec all day wearing snow pants and snow boots and bundled up with a scarf, hat, and Canadian mittens.

20.Did aerobics in French with a man on the stage of Bonhomme’s ice palace.

21. Answered a question put to me in French with “si.” (aka Spanish.)

22. Discussed philosophical topics while driving for hours upon hours in a car.

Overall, it was just a good feeling weekend. It felt good. Something’s good when, in the pit of your stomach, you just have this indescribably happy feeling; you look out upon the St. Laurence river, take in the snowy, icy spots of the river combined with the rocky cliffs and the quaint old buildings and just feel content. Like this is how the world should be, snow and laughter and love and cold and ice and beauty and people. Staring at a painting of a little house painted in the middle of a snowy field with a blue mountain in the distance and wanting nothing more than to go buy that house and live there for the rest of my days, reading novels curled up by a fire after a day of cross country skiing or tobogganing or taking a snow shoed stroll through the woods. That feeling that everything you’re experiencing is everything you ever wanted, dreamed of, and hoped for. That’s what this weekend was for me.That’s what it made me feel. And I realize this may seem a bit overdramatic and romanticized and silly. But, deep down, that’s what I felt. And it was wonderful. No matter how small or silly it seems, it was no less awesome. Simply. Awesome

Cold is an interesting thing. We all treat it like a tangible thing, but really, it’s just the absence of heat. Cold doesn’t even exist. But it seems so real to us and our senses that we treat it as its own entity which comes creeping into our houses, finding the tiniest cracks in the windows and slowly oozing it’s way closer and closer to our shivering bodies. It slithers like a snake, eagerly sapping what life energy we have, constantly searching for gaps and crevices that it can slip into.

But, for some reason, I love it. I love the cold, the feeling of snuggling up under a blanket to keep warm, feeling the cold brisk wind on my face, wriggling my toes to see if they are still attached to my foot, and watching my fingers slowly lose their dexterity. This is what I thrive off of, this is what keeps me alive.

I went sledding the other day. The brilliant genius that I am, I decided that I didn’t need to wear my snow pants because  jeans would suffice. I also had no need for actual snow gloves, or snow boots; I grabbed my knit mittens and silly little fashion boots, tied my hair into pigtails, shoved on a hat, wrapped myself in a scarf, threw on my rather long black creeper trench coat, and toddled out the door. Common-senseless girl strikes again…

Kenya bought crazy carpets for $2 at Dollarama, and the four of us set out to conquer some hills. The first hill was pretty steep and slick, and one by one we found our own special track and dove down the slippery slope. But then I had a problem; I couldn’t get back up. Emily’s fashion boots had NO traction. Whatsoever. I discovered this when I tried to run up the hill… and my boots started slipping… and I slid backwards. I looked around to make sure no one had seen me epically fail and, to my relief, they hadn’t. So I took a running start and tried again. And slid back down again. And again. And again… It was fairly pathetic. Everyone had noticed by now and was trying to give me helpful tips, but it just wasn’t happening. I became quite frustrated. I felt like a pathetic American who can’t even climb a snowy hill. Eventually, I gave up all sense of dignity and crawled up on all fours. In my jeans. The ground was cold. Not my best moment, to say the least.

My trench coat was also not the most ideal piece of clothing for snow frolicking. It is made of wool. Snow stuck to it. By the end of our play date, I was covered head to toe in snow, looking like an anorexic snowman. Snow stuck to my fashion boots, my knitted gloves, my scarf, my hat, and most of all my black coat. I imagine I looked quite silly.

And my jeans… made me cold. Snow went down my pants, into my boots, and my jeans got incredibly caked with snow. My legs basically froze until I had no feeling left. Do you ever get so numb, that you’re pretty sure if your pants fell down by some unfortunate circumstance, you would be clueless? Your pants could be down around your ankles, and you’d feel no difference. It’s a very dangerous place to be in, and it makes me paranoid that I’ll look down and suddenly be pantsless. That’s how I felt. Luckily, my trench coat is long enough that it would cover my bum in the event of unexpected pantslessness. Whew.

Eventually I was cold and snow caked and I ended up just waddling back to the car, like a little child who is insanely bundled up by their paranoid mother. When I got inside, the snow started melting until I was a gigantic black sopping mess. My legs were frozen. Even after I changed pants, for a good hour afterwards, I got this feeling that I was radiating cold. You know how, if you’re really hot, you feel like you’re radiating heat? Imagine that, but with cold air. Like there was this huge pocket of cold air being created by my lower limbs and being held hostage in my pants legs, and I was a walking human ice cube. It was actually a pretty cool feeling (no pun intended… haha)

You might think that this was a negative experience, and maybe I’d get some sense and realize that snow is cold and evil. But no. The blame was not the snow’s, but was mine to take. For not wearing appropriate winter clothing. I love the snow more than ever, and it was an amazing afternoon, full of love, laughter, and wrestling in the snow.  The snow is, and always has been, my absolute bestest friend ever. Take that, snow haters. Don’t b hatin’. And I don’t care if you’ve seen it on 4 chan b4.

What day is it again?

July 2018
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The Dusty Archives of my Mind

‎"If I went through life by myself, I'd waste a lot of my time wandering around in the wrong direction"