big, stupid, old man winter.

Apparently, it's winter. The sky is that funny color, no one stands outside unless they're smoking, and the cars all have those funny white afros.

I'm really not a fan. As seasons go, I prefer the ones that allow t-shirts and flip-flops. This long underwear and boot stuff? Not my bag.

And I suppose it's my own fault for coming, but this school and its location are not especially conducive to my attitude towards winter. I'm not alone. Many times have I overheard conversations where a voice lamented, "Why did I come to this stupid school?" Of course, a lot of times, that voice has been mine.

It's not just the snow, but rather that Watauga County is just so good at handling it. The University only cancels classes if the local bus system can't run. And darn those snowplows; they're too efficient for my own good. So the buses run. And my teachers are all very dedicated people who drive sport utility vehicles. I need to take more classes taught by people with sports cars. So classes are on, since the professor can make it, and the buses are running, I should be able to make it too. But I walk.

I live a block from campus, and the walk to most of my classes is about four or five blocks, which is not bad. Unless it's freezing cold, the sidewalks are icy, and the ubiquitous Boone wind is cutting any pedestrians in half. I walked those five blocks with 1.7 degree wind chill this morning. It's a strong and bitter wind, and students look like eskimos in some sort of Charlie Chaplin movie, being pushed in the general direction of their class or with their heads down, plowing through when they're walking upwind. And then you'll hit a patch where there is no wind, but you're still working hard to walk and you almost fall forward. You're in real trouble if the wind ever changes suddenly from in front of you to behind you, as if you needed any assistance falling down.

It's such an event going anywhere, because as soon as you enter a building, you have to strip off all these layers of clothing, while your glasses are fogged up and your boots are making those awful squeaky noises. And then, before you go out again, you have to put it all back on: first scarf, then coat, then hat, then gloves, and Lord help you if you forget to button your coat before you put on your gloves.

Everyone looks so ridiculous outside, well, at least I think they do. I know I do, so I just assume they do too since I never actually see anybody. If I look up from the ground, I'll slip on the ice and get snow blown in my face. So I pretty much stick to the scenery five feet ahead of me and down. It's not very attractive.

It takes a fair amount of concentration to walk anywhere, particularly right after a snow when the road crew is still working on the roads and haven't bothered with the sidewalks yet. Then there is a narrow path where the snow has been packed down by the feet of others, and the sidewalks start to look like a bunch of well-educated prisoners walking single-file to the license plate factory. Plus, the snowplows leave huge piles of snow on the border of the sidewalk that you have to climb over if ever you want to cross the street.

But to look on the bright side, it is very pretty and very peaceful. But only when you're inside looking out the window drinking hot cocoa or tea. Those are the times when winter really isn't so bad.