I never would have guessed how much four years in the South would completely renew my childlike glee at a big snow storm. OK, so I had off today anyway, and should have been doing other work like figuring out my life and preventing homelessness and all that minor nonsense, but there’s still that part of me that can’t resist screaming “SNOWDAYSNOWDAYNOSCHOOLNOSCHOOLNOSCHOOL!” and running out into the streets. So here’s what New York looked like today, with surprises along the way:
she said yes, obvs
Underground snowfall at Newkirk station:
Outside our front door:
Down Westminster St.:
And, of course, the weirdest part of the day, completely randomly running into WSAV reporter and Beaufort County resident Holly Bounds on 5th Ave. this afternoon.
Her and her husband are here on vacation this weekend. This all reinforces my theory about New York: Big city, small town.
It’s a city of 8.2 million, but the amount of random run-ins and such I’ve already seen in New York City makes it seem like friggin Mayberry. Case in point: I met Barry Schwartz for dinner last September when I was home in Jersey for a little while. Walking down the street, we ran into the intern friend of J. Cribbs from the Roanoke Times, who just happened to be passing by. Then last month, I told Robin and her roommate I met someone who works for Family Circle. “Oh Jane?” her roommate said. “Yeah, I know Jane.”
And to think people are scared of New York City.
Inverted Soapbox 
I drove through NY in that storm yesterday on my way back from Vermont. What was a 9-hour drive became a 12 1/2 hour drive. Forgive me if I don’t share your enthusiasm.
You are not forgiven. These are the risks you take when you choose to go to Vermont.