A DC Snow Day

DC never gets "snow days". This angered me a bit upon moving to the District for four years of college. But due to this weekend's thundersnow experience, I got what I always wanted -- a day to do absolutely nothing because it snowed.

You see -- it's rare to get a snow day in Chicago. They are elusive and exclusive, so when they happen ... you count your lucky stars. This weekend in DC was no different.

The clock hadn't even struck 4:56 p.m. on Friday when my boss told me I could leave for the day. No one could believe the forecasts, but I being the "Snow Hopeful" was happy for the news. I fled this office with one song on my mind -- "Let it Snow" by Dean Martin was on repeat the whole bus ride home.

I, along with my closest friends, were part of the lone members of the DC-bar-district paying customers during the greatest storm in DC history consumed the city in white, powdery dust.

It was my best friend's birthday. So who cares if it was snowing? We braved the storm, had our fill of debaucherours fun a-la our undergrad Greek Life days, and were surrounded by maybe less than 500 others in the entire Adams Morgan area.

Adams Morgan was never a favorite of mine. I find it to be a disgusting hell-hole of vile human activity and copious amounts of drinking. This Friday night was special though. We hopped between two bars -- Bourbon (where we spent my 22nd Birthday) and Tom Toms. These bars are notorious (as are all Adams Morgan bars) for being sweaty, crowded late-night party spots for those looking to drink their work week away. It was not that place once the snow started.

Friday night's Adams Morgan was full of folks in snow boots, ugly Christmas sweaters, scarves, and hats. It was like being in Chicago without having to pay the $400 seasonal airline ticket. I felt home for the first time in 4.5 years. It was wonderful.

That wasn't the end of it. In the words of the most cliched story tellers, 'twas only the beginning!

2 inches of snow (give or take) fell in the District every hour until late Saturday night.

Monday, I got my snow day from work. Granted, I woke up at 6:30 a.m. in a frenzy about whether or not the snow day would mean a day off from work only to find an e-mail in my inbox saying I could stay home.

A few Gilmore Girls episodes and some Chinese food later, I took a nap only to wake up and realize: "2009 is almost over."

It was in that moment that I felt like Dorothy in the poppy fields overlooking the Emerald City. The snow woke me up and rekindled my fire. I've had the same dreams since I was 9-years-old. The snow reminded me that I've got to get to work if I want to make those happen.