The great thing about living in a small school where you know almost everyone, where the buildings are all spread out and you have to walk somewhere between all your classes, is that when its snowing, break (aka passing period) becomes one big snowball fight. Walking to the cafeteria and walking back becomes a snowball fight.
The world is bright and white and fluffy and the flakes just stopped coming down a few minutes ago. At the moment I'd guess we're at about a foot. The ski area is opening this weekend, and the skier inside me is sort of happy that I didnt end up getting to go to Copenhagen. Of course, I would have rather gotten to go back and see my friends, but its not all bad. I'll get to slaughter all my friends in a really long snowball fight, and drink hot chocolate by the fire downstairs in the lounge, and maybe go out for fondue and chocolate mousse, and most importantly, I'll get to sleep, because I definitely haven't been getting enough of that lately. I really want to curl up in bed with a good book, and then get distracted and stare out the window at the beauty of a frosted world, enjoying the fact that while other things might not be so super stellar (homework really), I'm so freaking lucky.
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