So, for my whole life I’ve been hearing for years about these mystical, magical days where weather stops students from going to school. Some great, big cold front comes in and poof! No more math test. And living in California, never in my wildest dreams did I expect us to get a heap of snow that would jam up Redhill Ave. and keep me from getting to classes safely. Everyday I’d go to sleep praying that icicles would form so big that it would be a hazard to walk underneath them and I’d be able to stay in my bed all day with a bowl of something warm and know that I shouldn’t feel guilty about not being in school because this is God’s plan. Because God controls the weather. Duh. But, with that great feeling of wanting, I also had an equal, if not stronger, feeling of fear. I wondered who are these Titan’s of weather, these sinfully strong students, these Cold weather pioneers who can handle such an extreme lifestyle that the whole city shuts down and they are still able to live their lives? As much as I wanted to be them, I didn’t think that I would ever be as mighty and courageous to withstand such a testing experience.
So, here it was! The day I’d been waiting for! Where I, a wimpy Southern Californian could brave the cold with fearlessness and walk among those greater than I. With the excitement came a sort of fear that I wouldn’t be up to snuff and the dangers of the cold would get to me and I’d freeze mid stride like a Narnian White Witch-esque statue.