Welcome to New York. Please Enjoy the 46-Inch, Snow-Pounding Bitch Slap You’re About to Get.

Okay, I’m exaggerating just a little; I think the weather gurus are “only” predicting six to sixteen inches for us here in Manhattan/Brooklyn, but I do love the anticipation of a good snow storm. (All you people who know me can stop looking so shocked; I grew up shoveling snow, scraping ice off windshields, and as much as I hate to admit this, I actually remember the infamous Blizzard of ’78 and the endless snow days it brought us in Kentucky.)


The last blizzard I was actually in was back in1993. I was living at home with my parents, right out of college (now you know how truly geriatric I am), and I was stuck in the house with them and only them. With nowhere to go. FOR THREE ENTIRE DAYS, an utter eternity by my twenty-something standards. My parents had a treadmill and mostly what I remember is working that conveyor belt like it was my freakin’ job – I must’ve walked 200 miles – then going downstairs to watch yet another episode of The People’s Court with my parents over a bowl of salted, unbuttered popcorn, then returning to the treadmill to do it all again. I felt so trapped and bored back then, but now, of course, I’d gladly give anything to have my parents back and be trapped in a house with them bickering, snow blowing, and People’s Courting for three days.

I’ve only been in one blizzard in New York and it was fun – bitter cold, but really fun. I loved how quiet the whole city was – all I remember was the sound of snowballs hitting my head (thanks, Em) and the sound our boots made crunching on the snow. But of course, that memory (and my inability to remember hearing anything else) could also have something to do with the bottle of red wine (or was it two?) we drank fireside at some fantastically dark bar. Or maybe it had something to do with my 102-degree fever blocking out all sounds. (Key learning: people with fevers should probably not traipse around in a blizzard.)

Stay safe and warm tomorrow if you’re in Nemo’s path, and make sure you (or your bar of choice) have plenty of red on hand to ease its blow. And if you’re trapped in a house with someone, I hope it’s with someone you love. Lucky you.