First Snow December 7, 2008
Posted by Katie Oh in : Such As , trackbackYesterday evening: I woke up from a nap, and everything was a little slick. The hoods of cars were just ever-so-slightly dusted. A-ha! That’s what I’ve been missing. The chill has been here, the wind that chaps my ears, but not those flakes.
I skipped my World Civ class the other day, on the heels of the prof not returning my email. I decided on Union Square: I needed a book, a Starbucks Gold Card [don't judge!,] and a present for a Secret Santa exchange I’ve orchestrated for an online community I belong to.
I got out of the Subway station, and the first vehicle I laid my eyes on was one that had a sign proclaiming that it was part of the Law and Order SVU crew. I squealed, only loud enough to hear my own excitement. I caught a passing glimpse of Mariska Hargitay: gorgeous, as I suspected.
I got my drink at Starbucks and sipped it as I cooed to the cats that are up for adoption at Petco. I always feel bad, especially around the holidays, for those cats. You just want them to have a home. I dropped a few dollars in the donation box.
Barnes and Noble was interesting in the way that Barnes and Noble is always an interesting experience for me: it reminds me that I need to read more. I am truly under-read for a writing major. Although, I guess, less under-read than a classmate of mine who has never even read The Great Gatsby [?!?!] or a girl I know who’s never even flipped through To Kill A Mockingbird. I made lists in my head of all these books: I somehow doubt the Irwin library has most of them, but I am sure I will get to them, preferably sooner, rather than later.
I went to Trader Joes, with the winding line and smiling employees and left with two full bags [$30 worth of groceries?!] that made my shoulders ache. Eggplant Parmesan, the ingrediants costing some $8, fed Amber and I for no less than three meals. And I have a bag of pasta and half a can of sauce left over. Mushroom turnovers still in the freezer for our upcoming cocktail party. You know.
I got home that night and was greeted by a message from a ex, apologixing [!] for a series of events that occured some 2-3 years ago. [!!!] Said he was trying to make amends. I, being perpetually apprehensive, not only after said events spurred by him, but the ones occuring after it, accepted his apology in the way that you can only do after time and 600 miles have passed. A “you’re forgiven,” but in the way that, after reflection, I’ve realized what a stronger person it’s made me.
Last night, I was half-tucked-in, watching TV online, when Amber yelled into my room: “Want to go to Julie’s birthday party?” I considered, and pulled on a sweater and a pair of jeans, abandoning the manufactured New York for the real one. The party was half a block away, in an apartment a shade nicer than ours, with most of the guests being people I had never met. It was nice to meet people again, a few writing majors I didn’t know, over popcorn and drinks. Julie gave us hugs as we left, and immortalized the evening with a picture of us next to some strange tiki idol the owners of the apartment acquired. In the photograph, which has yet to actually reach me, I have one arm wrapped around it, and am laughing, eyes closed, red-faced. Enjoying the moment.
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