61: snow

As predicted, it snowed tonight. Snowflakes fell madly, disappearing into an immense sheet of silk on the street. It was beautiful as we walked, and I ran up ahead of my roommate and her friend and made footprints in the untouched snow. I laughed like a kid.

On our way back, roomie and I walked 11 streets. “Last one’s a loser,” I said and flitted down the street. Outside our house, I had a new idea: “When we wake up tomorrow, let’s make a snowman.” Ten minutes later, we were piling snow on top of her father’s car. We laughed in the cold, dark night, alone in the silky street under the glow of a strand of yellow lights. Then we found sticks and added those to the picture, and leaves for hair. Finally, we stood back admiring our new friend. Beautiful.

Upstairs, we undressed and hung out coats and scarves and socks on the railing in the hallway outside our door. Early in the fall, a fire truck had mistakenly come to our house. After inspection, a fireman asked us to take our crap sitting on the steps outside in the hallway because it was a fire hazard. So we did … the next day, it was back out again. And now we’re adding more. We looked at the scene and laughed at what seemed like a homeless person’s abode. Oh, well.

Inside, I retreated to my room while she brushed her teeth. I changed and packed some things for my trip. As I folded clothes, I thought about today. Her friend came at 3 p.m., and they sat in the kitchen and ate cookies while I wrapped presents in my room and listened to their conversation. I’ve always been content doing my own thing, knowing that the person in my life was occupied by a friend nearby. If it’s close enough that I can hear it, I feel comforted. I can’t find the words to explain it right now, but I know it comes from my mom … the only time when I was completely sure that there would be no fight, no insult, no anger from mom was when she had a friend over and I could hear them in the kitchen. Then I knew I had the next whole hour or two to do what I wanted, in peace.

After sealing the last package, I joined them in the kitchen. Roomie made us hot cocoa. We drank and talked. Later, we got ready for about two hours, then went out to a local bar. And finally: snow.

It was nice. All of it today, and it’s strange that this entry comes right after the last one, when I woke up crying, and looked at the clock, then the ominous white sky. I never would have guessed this would have turned out to be a good day filled with love. It’s as if life sprang out of death, despite the world being covered by a layer of frost. How beauty can be born out of misery! It’s often like that in life. Have you ever noticed?

Finally, I went to say goodnight to my roommate. I felt close to her tonight and wanted to hug her, but I didn’t want to be a bother, so I walked into her room and said goodnight. She turned in her chair, got up and gave me a hug. Then she took my hand and said, “I have something for you.” So we went to the kitchen, where she had been boiling water since we’d walked in. She poured it into a special container that’s sealed with wool, and then gave it to me. “This should help you not be too cold tonight,” she said.

She doesn’t realize that I never made a snowman, and that I’ve never felt as warm on a winter day.

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About tali2

I am a recent grad of the wonderful English major. Though I don't regret studying English one bit, I realize why my teachers, parents, friends, and imaginary mentors warned me against it: Because it leads you nowhere. But it did give me great writing skills which I hope to continue honing in this blog as I chronicle the tribulations of the terrible job hunt in the terrible job market of NYC. And I hope that my blog reminds fellow unemployed recent grads that you are not alone, inspires some hope within us, while presenting a snapshot of our lives to others who do not share the same self-imposed troubles.
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One Response to 61: snow

  1. Don’t be like that Faith. You made a huge impact with your post, more adequate than you probably know. About the series …

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