Thursday, January 12, 2012
Much like my fellow Word-Whores...I'm not much of a winter sports person. (Unless reading by the fireplace counts.) I mean, I went to school in New Hampshire for four years and lived in Massachusetts for a year after that and...never went skiing once. Or ice skating.
(Hockey games? Went to them *all* the time. Seriously, it's the only sport I can bear watching for longer than 5 minutes. Probably because it's fast. As opposed to football, which is complete snoresville.)
And really, the thing about going to school in New England is that there's usually a ton of snow. Or it's freezing. All the time. So while there was plenty of sitting around and drinking warm things, there were also lots of random events involving snow.
Like impromptu snowball fights.
The sort that involved hundreds of people. Wandering around at midnight. Chucking snowballs at each other. And dorms. (One actually got out of control enough that authorities told everyone inside to the dorms to stay away from the windows. Peeking pretty much guaranteed there'd be an ice ball hurled at you...there were a fair number of windows broken that night, unfortunately.)
The occasional dorm-room sledding shenanigans involving a hill, mattresses or a dining room tray and lots of drunk people? Yes. (One of my friends took a drunken dining hall tray ride...right into the mostly frozen stream one night...kinda killed the vibe since it was probably at least 10 below. And yes, I said mostly...he broke through and got soaked.)
And quite honestly, nothing beats walking home from the bars at 2 AM and catching campus police doing donuts in the empty commuter lots.