I’ll take an order of snow with a side of blizzard, please.

Wehehehelllllllll, on this particularly gloomy night of magic, I’m stuck between choice (A), my room, and choice (B), the three blocks encircling the dormitory. Good grief, I can hear the jealously rolling off of you like a tornado in Kansas; try to contain yourself now, please. Alright, perhaps that’s a bit of an exaggeration regarding my confinement. But the inclement weather we’ve been hit with has been quite the change of pace here in good ol’ New York City. As was the case with the snow last week, it started off with adorable, melty, car-sized snowflakes that seemed to do little harm unless of course, one hit you square in the eye whilst you were walking; in that case, your eye was numb for about a minute and a half and you were in severe danger of walking square into either a delightfully sketchy hot dog truck or a hobo, neither of which are particularly ideal. But that was before Thursday evening. And here is where Nellie will take over for a while:

In the wee hours of Friday morning (or if you’re Nellie and sleep is for sissies, at some variable point during the very long night), the snow began whirling down, threatening everything that is warm and good and holy with a nasty case of frostbite and a very, very irritable mood. Upon waking Friday morning, after forcing her eyes open enough to turn off her alarm about fifty-two times, Nellie let out a screech. Thankfully, neither a cockroach nor Bat Boy (this precious little fella, for those of you still naive and at peace with the world ) had crawled into bed with her overnight. Her reaction was to receiving an e-mail that classes had been cancelled due to the most unfortunate scenario: none of the teachers could make it to the studio due to the howling storm outside. Now this is something that never, ever, NEVEREVEREVEREVER happens at Cornell, for they are staunch followers of the school known as “All Work and No Play Made Jack a Very Obnoxiously Well-Knowledged Boy,” so as you can imagine, the idea of being free to do as she wanted with her day was a thorough shock to poor Nellie’s system. But since it looked something like this outside , she supposed that she understood the reasoning behind this most devastating decision. After sobbing and throwing a tantrum that consisted of banging her head against the wall enough to wake up her neighbor Kay from Korea, she fell back asleep for quite some time. Quite some time being far too long for any person living in the so-called “Real World” to approve of, but for any college student to agree with wholeheartedly.

Being stuck in such an area of New York can have its advantages, though, as Nellie was quite pleased to find out. One such surprise was that a Very Important Auction house was having a preview of an upcoming show. Now normally Nellie, quite the museum aficionado due to years of Sunday ventures with her family, has a slight distate for those very institutions, since one can only get so close to a piece before a trip wire is activated and alarms start ringing and security guards start coming over to drag you away and Nellie can barely sob out an apology before being thrown face-first onto the pavement outside. This, however, was different, for since the guards assumed that you were a Trust Fund Baby and therefore had thousands of dollars to throw away on a painting whose artist you remember reading about in school and did not even particularly like, they let you get as close as you darn well pleased. Which made Nellie quite thrilled, to say the least. In fact, she almost pulled a Mason and peed herself, and though it would have been out of sheer excitement, luckily Nellie has slightly more self-control than that and merely let out an enraptured squawk that disturbed the very composed young ladies in black sitting at the front desk. Needless to say, she spent the better part of the day pining over artworks that would in a few days be sitting in the safe of an old wrinkly lady with an obnoxiously yappy dog and an even more obnoxious chauffeur. A day well spent? You’d better believe it.

Other than that, Nellie spent the rest of the weekend doing Frivolous Nothings, because why on earth would one actually want to be productive when it is so deliciously lazy and cold outside?

Exactly.

Until next time, my friends, here’s hoping that you’re all warmer than your dear writers are; that, and also hoping that Mason and Nellie can make it through the week without accidentally being blinded by the snow and running into a hot dog vendor. Have you ever tried to get the smell of hundreds of Kosher, all-beef hot dogs out of your clothes? I’ll save you the trouble of taking on that little endeavor to find out and just tell you, it is no easy task. And let’s face it, between the peeing of the pants and the unannounced shrieks, Mason and Nellie certainly have enough on their hands to deal with as is.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *