I went out to dinner with my brother and some friends tonight. There's a restaurant about twenty minutes away from where I live by Metro called "Breakfast in America" and one of my friends haunts it like the ghoul in the Weasley's attic. He knows every waiter/waitress and they all know him. It's a little scary, actually.
Anyway, it started snowing on our way out, first a little bit and then it was coming down pretty hard. It had us all so enthralled that we legitimately were almost hit by a bus because we weren't paying attention to what we were doing.
Silvia was hopping up and down, so excited about the snow. I was less than enthusiastic.
I often claim that I hate snow, but I suppose that's not entirely true. I love the idea of snow. It's just so picturesque as it floats down from the sky. And walking through Paris at night, looking at the snow flurry lit by lampposts and light streaming from the store windows, you can't help but remark at how beautiful it is. It's like you stepped into a romantic movie and the love of your life is about to come sprinting around the corner.
At the same time, though, this is coming from the girl who absolutely can't stand being cold. I'm not as bad as some people I know. I enjoy sliding around on the ice as much as the next person. And who can resist the appeal of nailing someone with a good-sized snowball to the face? Still, this is about the time of year that I'd much rather spend all hours of the day bundled up on the couch with a good book and a large mug of coffee.
I guess I'm doomed to to a love/hate relationship with snow. It will always be beautiful, but it comes at the price of my being more than a little uncomfortable.
In other news, I'm really enjoying my Introduction to Criminal Justice class. I have a strong feeling it's going to be what my Sociology course was last semester -- aka. my favorite class. I'm taking three classes this semester: Introduction to Criminal Justice, Introduction to the Humanities, and Composition & Rhetoric II. They're all going rather well and I'm enjoying each, but there's something about Criminal Justice that is inherently interesting to me.
Like who knew that "it is impossible to determine with accuracy the amount of crime [or delinquency] in any given jurisdiction at any particular time"? Or that, "A child under 7 years of age is considered a legal infant or of legal nonage. Thus, if a 6-year-old child picks up a shotgun and shoots his or her parent, the child is unlikely to be charged with a crime,"? It's all rather fascinating.
I suppose I just really enjoy understanding how the law works and how criminal justice is handled in America. I'm sure it will come in handy one day in my writing too. Who knows?
There wasn't really a point to this post, I guess. These are just two things I was pondering today and I thought it was about time I wrote on this blog again. So please excuse my rambling. My brain just works this way, I suppose.
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