So most people find it really humorous that I had not seen a real snow fall until I was past my quarter life crisis (and yes I am planning on living to be 100), and yes I did get terribly excited the first time I saw a flurry. So excited in fact that I asked everyone I saw if this was snow. The only real response I got to this was a quizzical look and a slightly nervous laugh. Most likely this was simply due to the fact that very few people in New York could understand anything I was saying, what with my thick “Vrystaat” accent, and the peculiar mix of Afrikaans slang that I have introduced into my every day language (It simply makes sense that the plural of waterfall would be waterfallses right?).
But then the New York blizzard of December 2010 hit, and no one was laughing at me anymore. I still had to ask it though: “Can I call it real snow yet?” I’ve always believed that Africa is not for sissies, but let me tell you, a blizzard is definitely not for sissies!
As I watched New York retreat indoors (from the comfort of my lounge of course), I turned to the LIB and told her that there is absolutely no chance that I will be going outdoors until all this “blerrie” snow is gone!
But boy, could I not have been more wrong!
You see, there was a problem. The problem was that roughly 5 blocks from our apartment was a little hole in the wall place, a place we began to affectionately refer to as “the place where diets go to die”.