Snow

I really miss snow. Seriously, where is it? I met a man in Alaska who liked snow so much he’s getting his PhD in it. Just snow. I like snow, there are angles to be made, snowballs to be thrown, immaturity to embrace. Apparently it is a thing of the past, because today, outside my mother’s kitchen, there is a green lawn as the radio is playing Christmas songs. Let’s take a moment to miss the good old days, when Christmas was white. At the dawn of 30, I will start using the expression when I was young...