Oh it's so wonderful being in a place where it snows for real. My most common refrain during the winter months in Midwestern Town was that there was no point for cold weather without snow. Here, in the Bubble, each day that it has been below 33 degrees, it has snowed.
I also thought of Midwestern Town during biology lab the other day, when a powerpoint slide had as a footnote the decal of Damn-Big-Midwestern-University. I have to admit to letting out a marginally stifled squeak, the origins of which only my lab partner, also from the Midwest, appreciated. She also commiserated on the confusing aspects of the Jersey Transit System and she and I may attempt a visit to the mall this weekend, via bus, fingers crossed.
Today I did something that I had promised myself I would not do, but I was in the mood to read (snow was coming down outside, I had hot chocolate; how could I not be?) and, looking for something I could start and finish quickly before getting to immersed in pre-break work that I would forget the plot, I picked up the novel given to me by my creative writing teacher, written by her and apparently an "erotic thriller."
The part of this story I regret is that, knowing myself as I do, I started to read it without finishing her class first. I don't regret reading it (I think it's good so far, but I'm not done yet), but I do regret reading it (and doubtless finishing it) before class this coming week, when I will have to meet her eye and not think of the book.
(Those of you who know her are SWORN TO SECRECY.)