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Here it is. December 8, 2004, in the middle of freaking South Dakota, and we still haven't had a decent, lasting snow. The world is ugly and brown, the streets have been decked out in their festive holiday trappings, but the lights and colors are nothing when they are not frosted with snow. They look like weak attempts to instill a little spirit in the middle of this cold.

Snow is the best part of winter. Snow makes the cold bearable, because it's beautiful. I look out onto the streets, hunching my shoulders against the biting wind, and I wonder why this time is so different from fall or spring? It certainly looks like fall or spring. Why oh why is it so cold? Snow justifies cold. A good snow will even soften the cold, take away its bite and make it more of a sensation that combines in a pleasant gooey ooze when you introduce hot chocolate, a bath, or a warm bed and a book.

It is December 8. Snow is at least a month late. Maybe even a month and a half. In regular winters, we generally have some decent snow around Halloween. But no.

Apart from the lack of pure white precipitation? I don't know. I suppose my life is as well as can be expected, to be perfectly honest. The end of the semester is coming, and so the pressure of meeting deadlines coupled with personal issues are getting me down some. I have a paper due Friday morning that is royally kicking my butt. So of course I'm making a journal entry whining about snow rather than buckling down and banging the damn thing out. Hoo-rah. Memorize lines for a theatre project, study for finals, do laundry... birthdays (about five of them, to be perfectly honest), graduation parties, Christmas obligations... these are the things facing me within the next few weeks.

All I want for Christmas... well. That's between me and Santa. cry