NC Meets DC: There's Snow Where To Go

Thirty-six hours of snow and 20+ inches later, we did it, DC! My first blizzard – in the books. It may have only been the no. 4 largest storm in DC's history, but it was no. 1 for me.

The fact that the Metro system shut down all trains and buses meant that I had no choice but to sit at home and watch the storm. I alternated between binge-watching crime dramas and trying to complete Tracy Anderson workout videos to make up for the fact that my FitBit was recording about 20 steps an hour. (The only time you should ever try Tracy's videos is when you are alone because you look a fool. I'm convinced no one can look cool doing those crazy arms.)

Despite my cabin fever, Winter Storm Jonas (#SnowJo. Why didn't this catch on?) only reignited my love of the snow. It's beautiful out there – cold, impassable and slightly dangerous, but beautiful.

I was so bummed to have to cancel a girls' weekend in Atlanta for #SnowJo but at least I was rewarded for my safe, practical travel decision with an overwhelming amount of the white stuff. Reagan Airport reported 17.8 inches of snow (ALLEGEDLY), but I'd say up here in NW D.C., we have about 22 inches.

Here's a panoramic shot of the front of my building.

I think I handled a blizzard like a pro, if I do say so myself. I am not even going to guess how many hours of TV I watched or how much time I spent on social media – I don't think math goes that high.

So far, I've only ventured out three times. I got a bit ahead of myself and tried to go for a walk yesterday afternoon while it was actively snowing heavily. I don't know if y'all know this or not, but snow blowing in your face is not a pleasant experience. In the movies, women walk through the snow with ease, looking lovely against a backdrop of freshly fallen snow, flakes getting daintily caught on their eyelashes.

Y'all, that's not what happens at all.

Trying to be outside during a blizzard is not attractive. Not only are snow pants the world's loudest pants, but you get all red-faced and snotty and wind-blown. Those snowflakes don't fall delicately on your lashes, they blind the hell out of you. And you don't gracefully stroll through the snow – you go hoofing it over snow drifts and get snow in your boots.

I lasted all of 12 minutes.

Snow all up in my face.

But still, I love it. I love the snow.

Before the wind and snow blinded me, I did excitedly make a snow angel. Unfortunately, my phone died when I tried to take a photo, which is probably a good thing since the angel got all messed up when I got stuck.

You heard me, I got stuck.

Solo snow angeling is not as easy as one would think. When the snow is all powdery, you sort of just sink down about eight inches and then have to get yourself up while trying not to damage your angel. I should move closer to my friends if, for no other reason, to have access to snow angel helpers.

By yesterday evening, the snow had started to subside and I could go out for a walk up Connecticut Avenue. There is something so magical and comforting about seeing a normally busy and loud thoroughfare completely empty and covered in snow. It was peaceful and quiet, aside from the sound of my loud snow pants.

This morning, I walked up the street to Firehook Bakery to get myself a chai tea latte and to pick up some scones for the hardworking building staff I heard shoveling snow during the wee hours of the morning. Though the digging out of DC had definitely begun, the sidewalks were still piled high with snow, mostly from snow plows trying to clear the streets. I took a stupid amount of pictures, not playing it cool at all. (See below) There were kids on sleds, people on skis, and overachievers fitness running in the snow. Where do all these people keep skis in tiny DC apartments?

Connecticut Avenue

I'll head out again later to pick up some beer for watching the Panthers conquer the Cardinals tonight. I only have blizzard wine at home and I can't drink wine while watching football. That's un-American. I don't think Metro thought about the fact that I would need to get to the Panthers bar when they shut down the subway. Fortunately it's just as effective when I scream at the TV at home as when I do it in public. (Meaning, it isn't effective at all because "Ooh look out! RUN FASTER!" is not helpful.)

When I moved to DC, I'd hoped I would get to experience a big snowstorm. To me, a girl from NC, DC is the north and the north gets snow. It's simple logic. I thought the 6-or-so inches last year were all I'd get. Thanks, Jonas, for making dreams come true.*

*And thanks to the numerous city employees and building staff who worked several days straight to ensure it was the safest blizzard possible.