While most library-goers are frantically practicing calculus problems or typing up papers, I’m the one munching away at my almond cranberry trail mix while scrolling through food blog after food blog on the library computers. Though food blogs beat watching Netflix and checking Facebook incessantly, I always imagine being labeled as “Fatty who likes looking at food” or “Loud Munching Girl” behind my back by the other students.
Do you not secretly classify your peers in the library? There’s the guy who takes up a nice seat by an outlet (which would have been just perfect to charge your laptop with) just to snore with wild abandon. There’s the Facebook addict who refreshes his/her home page every 10 seconds or so. There are the potato-chips-and-soda guys. They keep the library echoing with the sound of soda cans opening and the squeaky rubbing of a plastic bag of chips as they rip it open.
Oh right and there are hungover people. Avoid these at all costs. They are obnoxious and distracting. I’ve had more than a fair share of experiences with these on Sundays at noon in the undergraduate library.
Yet, nothing quite matches that feeling when you look up from hours of intense cramming at a certain wooden desk in the library and see snow.
And not just a light sprinkle or something my friend likes to call “Snrain” (snowy rain), we’re talking about legitimate snow. Not powdered sugar, granulated sugar. When my dad drove me home from the park ‘n’ ride yesterday, the granulated sugar snow had just started sprinkling on the road outside my neighborhood. The little pieces of snow fell on the road like Dippin’ Dots and whenever a car drove by, the Dippin’ Dots came up in a wild flurry like free-flowing air particles.
Granulated sugar…Dippin’ Dots…air particles. Snow is monumental in our world. It’s beautiful, it postpones midterms, it cancels school, and it makes it acceptable to lie on a lawn and make repetitive motions with your arms and legs (what some may call snow angels). Try doing that on a lawn without snow. You’d get stares.
Snow’s a pretty powerful thing.
So are shortbread hearts that I made for my best friends. As February comes to an end, try to spread the love.
Lemon Basil Shortbread Hearts (Adapted from Cherry Tea Cakes)
Place on a baking sheet and cook until golden brown, about 8-10 minutes. Remove to a wire rack and let cool.