By MARISSA SCHOENFELD
Some people compare purgatory to a fiery furnace or a refrigerator full of empty milk cartons. I say it’s an eternal winter in Provo.
No offense intended to you snow lovers out there, but I just can’t get excited about snow season. I’d be content to sit indoors with a cup of hot chocolate and watch the snow fall, but don’t ask me to drive in it, walk to class in it or make snow angels in it.
Snow, by my calculations, is the enemy.
It’s cold. It’s wet. It’s inconvenient. It causes damage and death-laden avalanches. Exhaust and travel turn it into a brown slushy mess. And it wears out its welcome by mid-December but stays until March.
I know, I know. I chose to come to BYU and as part of that decision I’m obliged to accept certain circumstances unique to this environment. This includes weather conditions. (I mean, we all could have chosen the Hawaii campus, but we wouldn’t be able to gripe as much about diversity, either.)
But to say I have to like ALL the Provo ambiance including dry skin, construction and yes, even snow, would be as ludicrous as saying I have to like ALL the flavors at Baskin Robbins or ALL the general education classes required at BYU.
“But what about skiing?” you may ask. Skiing is fun. Keep it in the mountains. If you want snow, there should be a few designated places such as ski resorts that cater to this need. That’s the trick. Good skiing in the mountains does not necessitate a foot of snow in the valley.
Maybe my feelings about snow stem from my childhood (like most neuroses we blame on our upbringing or our parents). In Eugene, Ore., my friends and I would pray for snow for one reason: school would be cancelled. I have fond memories of getting up early to listen to the radio in great anticipation of whether my school district would take advantage of those blessed snow day allotments.
Here, there is no question and there is no mercy; even first graders go to school in a snow storm.
Maybe I’m still holding a grudge from the time I spent the holidays in Utah and it didn’t snow at all. I was cheated out of my white Christmas and instead got handed an unusually dry Christmas. Also, my whole family got the flu that year.
Maybe I’m clinging to memories of my mission on a tropical island where I never had to wear socks or long sleeves. And now I’m headed into my first winter in two years.
Whatever the reasons, I do my best to tolerate the snow. I’ll probably sit and watch it fall every now and then. Maybe I’ll even make a snowman with my sister or play in the snow with my family home evening group one of these weeks.
Just don’t wonder why I’m so upbeat when it starts to melt.
