Norther Virginia is now under a blizzard watch for Friday and Saturday. Of course, most folks around here are all:
Whereas I'm all:
I often get chided for this, but I can't help it: I really like snow. In my opinion, frigid cold weather is not justified unless there are also flakes.
Yes, yes: I do realize this is a reflection of my privilege. You see, I'm southern, I'm non-essential personnel, and I'm disabled. My electrical infrastructure is new enough that I generally don't lose power; my workplace shuts down during big storms because, well, attendance there is voluntary; and because I'm disabled, other people do my shoveling. For me, a big snow storm means a cozy day at home with my woobie, warm PJ's, aloe-infused socks, hot chocolate, and a good book.
I also like the snow because I've been corrupted. My brother is a meteorologist, and it's been kind of hard not to absorb his funny storm-chasing ways to some extent. Don't get me wrong: When a severe storm is imminent, I do the sane thing and run for cover. But I love to watch long evolution events like nor'easters and hurricanes just for the intellectual thrill. Am I conscious of their potentially destructive power? Of course; I'm not heartless. But the curiosity is there all the same.
In any event, I can't stop myself from hoping that this week's snow lives up to the hype. Please don't be hatin', my northern brethren. It's who I am.