December Snow... it happened, again.

So a brief update, first, about the title, last year if you are from the Northwest, you would remember how we had the snowstorm of the decade. Well, apparently this 'snowiness' followed me to Washington DC, where I thought I could most certainly escape it. Well, read on...

I'm writing right now from my dad's house in Monroe, WA, the picture to the left is a shot from my Dad's porch, it almost makes living in the boonies tempting... Now I'm about to open some presents and eat some delicious food, all the while celebrating my grandmother's 94th birthday, aka, Birthmas. This is my fifth day here in the hometowns of Woodinville and Monroe, towns not so far apart. Monroe is a lot like how Woodinville used to be, before all the development came in. Now, I want you to know that I won't claim to be that old, to have been here way back when the family used to hop in the 'ol pickup and drive down the dusty road to the general store... but I thought I'd draw a picture of some of the similarities that exist between these two towns.

I arrived.

But just barely.

The wednesday before, some of my coworkers were talking about the 'big snow' that was predicted to hit that weekend. "Whhhhhhaaatt?"

My heart sank.

I couldn't believe it.

I immediately checked all the local news stations, finally going to the National Weather Service and seeing that they had a 'conservative estimate' of 1-2 feet of snow. My flight was to leave on Sunday.

Balls.

My coworkers tried to reassure me that the weather people we probably overestimating, and that the snow storm wouldn't even hit at all.

"Bull," I thought, the National Weather Service isn't an organization that tends to try to freak people out just to get good ratings, like the local weather folks, (nothing against them, though). I knew in the back of my mind that it was going to be an interesting weekend. I prayed for the best but assumed the worst.

Friday: Time, 7:30pm.

The air is crisp, as what remains of my house (Tricia, Emily, Pat, and I) walk through the neighborhood of Dupont Circle, to a holiday party at a friends'. Our breath is instantly cloudified and rises up from the  bright streets towards the orange sky. The moon isn't visible, just the greyish orange reflection of the clouds overhead. It just looks like snow, minus any of the white stuff actually precipitating.

We arrive to the house, well, basement, where Lourds (our friend) lives. It's a very cute setup, with plenty of 'hang-out' space, a table of beautifully organized holiday desserts, and a interesting walkway to the kitchen where alcoholic beaverages await. A keyboard sits in the 'hang' area and I looked longingly at it for a moment, before being offered baileys coffee and almost forgetting about it completely. My friend Carl arrives and as we start talking, people start yelling. I look outside and see the first flakes of snow coming down. It is beautiful, but I just hope that it stops just as soon as it started so I can get to where I need to go.

As we get ready to leave, the snow has continued to accumulate and there is more than a heavy dusting on the ground and it doesn't look like it is going to end any time soon. In the time it takes us to walk two blocks, my hair has gone from red to white. We hop in the car and head home, driving extra carefully.

Saturday comes, and I wake up to snow surrounding my room on three sides, filling the windows and stacking on top of the branches outside.

Balls.

It looks nice, but I can't help but thinking about how screwed I am when it comes to me trying to get places, IE out of DC. I walk downstairs and open the door: 1 foot of snow.

Ungh.

I shovel the porch, which takes about 10 minutes, the come back inside and work on an essay for an application. The snow continues outside and before long, I'm back outside shoveling another foot of snow. I decide that it is more prudent to just stay inside today, I make one attempt at venturing outside to send off a xmas card, and come back cold and wet.

The snow continues to pour, and pour.

I finish the rest of my Christmas cards.

I play a few tunes on the keyboard.

I also sign up for updates from the wmata, as I read that all the bus lines have shut down along with all the above ground metro stations, effectively cutting me off from where I need to go. It would make a good story to say that at this point, I just broke down and cried, but I didn't. Not my style, or I just wasn't feeling emotional enough. I just thought through a few choice four letter words.

Here is the breakdown of what happened the day of my departure.

1. I woke up
2. I checked the weather, and WMATA, and was assured that nothing had changed, the bus was still shut down along with all above ground metro rail stations.
3. Balls
4. I call the Super Shuttle, well, I go to their website and make a reservation. At no time did it say that they would not be able to pick me up.
5. I rejoice, that I will be able to make it out.
6. I pack my things.
7. At 2:00pm, 4 hours before my scheduled departure, I get a call from a Super Shuttle Representative. They inform me that they will not be able to make the pick up and that my best bet is a cab, (to Baltimore.... yeah, um, how about a 80 dollar cab ride?) even though there is a 4 hour wait for cabs in the city.
8. I scream bloody murder.
9. My housemates hear me, and ask what's up. I inform them of the situation, and Tricia and her BF, Pat, save my Christmas single handedly. They tell me that they will be able to drive me to the airport and that we are leaving ASAP.
10. We dig out the jeep, and drive to BWI. I make my flight, all is good, and I arrive in Seattle around 11:35pm.

It was so crazy once I got to BWI, there were lines of people who had had their flights cancelled the day before and earlier on Sunday. To me, it was surreal as I just stepped to the E-Check-in, and printed my boarding pass and made it past security without a hitch, 3 hours early.

I got out, but it wasn't by skill, or smarts, or anything that I intentionally did, it was luck and by the grace of others that I was able to make it home.

This week has been a whirlwind, of seeing friends I haven't seen in ages, and realizing there just isn't enough time. There's just not enough time, with each coffee date, an hour passes by faster than ever before, and we are left wondering where the time went, and part our ways, until our next meeting. In each coffee date, I'm halfway brought up to speed on their lives, I feel like I've missed out on so much.

Christmas thus far has been great, the presents, of course, because they're unexpected, and it isn't the gift as much as the generocity of others that surprises me and delights me each time that someone has thought of me and gone through the process of finding a present, wrapping it (especially wrapping it, its a pretty long process for me, at least), and giving it. I don't feel that the price of a gift should mean that much, it should be about the feeling of affirmation, the knowledge that there are people out that care. While I don't want to get to wrapped up in this (pun intended), I feel that presents themselves can be a physical manifestation of love or appreciation or friendship but really shouldn't by any means be the only way that a person feels loved. There are signs all around us that there are people who care for us, its just a little more apparent at Christmas because you "get" things, but in all other times in life, there are gifts we are given that arn't wrapped in paper, and sometimes it is hard to realize just how much of a gift they are.