Snow: not as fun as it used to be.

It seems as though I'm being stalked by snow.

I was home in Portland for two weeks of winter vacation. No snow. Not one flake. The entire time. Wait... that's a lie. Sorry, I just lied to you, dear reader. I encountered a few flakes in Vancouver, WA on my drive up to Seattle. But these flakes were pretty harmless, and once I made it past Ridgefield, there was nary a flake to be seen. Seattle showed me its' range of weather. In the four days I was there we had rain, cold, and sun... but no snow. Which was fine by me, as I had people to see, places to eat, and jeans to purchase. Snow would have thrown a wrench right in those plans.

Portland weather was fantastic as well. We got a week of beautiful sunshine. Cold clear days. Perfect for running around and seeing family and friends... and of course, shopping with mom. But then, my very last night in Portland, we got snowfall. I didn't even get to enjoy it! My mom came into my room in the morning to wake up and tell me, excitedly, that there was snow on the ground. This is a routine we used to have when I was growing up: we'd hear the evening newscaster say something hokey about the incoming "storm" and all the kids waiting to hear for school closures, I'd go to sleep with high hopes of snow on our already treacherous driveway undoubtedly preventing me from going to school, wake up in the middle of the night, look out my window and see the flakes falling in the light cast by the street lamp on Vista. I would run back into bed and hunker down, knowing that my day would be spent at home. In the morning, mom would come in and excitedly say "there's snow! it's sticking!" The morning would proceed with sleeping in, hot chocolate, and daytime soap operas. How fun, right!?

This past Monday, however, when mom came in with the pup to tell me that there was snow on the ground, my first thought was "aw man..." - as I had a flight out that afternoon. My brother came up the hill in his Suburban beast and took me out to breakfast. By the time we got home, traffic was moving as usual, and the snow was really just a bunch of extra travel stress. Sad.

I landed in Tel Aviv Wednesday afternoon, and could have sworn that I saw tiny snow flakes mixed in with the rain out the airplane window. Snow? In Tel Aviv? No way. But lo and behold, not twelve hours later, Jerusalem is covered in a thick blanket of snow. Which, from the window looks very picturesque and fluffy and snowy and fun. But in reality, is just a bunch of slush waiting to soak you through to the bone. School went ahead today as planned - although, to HUC's credit, they did shorten the day to let us get home. I must say, I never knew that snow could be so wet! We all looked like a bunch of wet dogs when as we trickled into school this morning. Each with his or her own particular brand of grievance and/or snow-protection plan. (My favorite being a classmate-who-shall-remain-nameless putting plastic grocery bags over his shoes. Brilliant, actually). As today was the first day of the new semester, I decided to put my best foot forward and actually dress up. Stupid idea, as I wound up looking like overdressed-wet-dog. From here on out, as long as this gray slush lies between me and the rest of the world, it's longjohns, sweats, and rain pants all the way. Hmph!

This all leads me to my new view on snow. I'm sure you've already come to this conclusion, but I'm just coming to it, so... I'm slow.

Snow is great fun times, unless:
1 - you have to be somewhere, and
2 - you don't have a car... with ice tires.
3 - you don't have any food in the house and both you and your obnoxious kitten are hungry.

Otherwise, I say "hooray for snow!"

However, at the moment, I say "Down with snow!"