Last night, a blizzard hit NYC.
Growing up in Texas, I could only imagine what “blizzard” meant. Snow falling cold and hard as bullets. Dagger-like icicles. Winds that cowed pipes and power lines.
Then I moved here with a down coat and a few sweaters, bought long underwear, and waited for snow.
When the first blizzard hit, I was wearing pointy-toed boots with three-inch stiletto heels. I hadn’t been tuned in to the news enough to hear the b-word, or else I’d have stayed in and kept a snow vigil.
Instead, I went on a friend-date with a nice Jewish guy from my neighborhood. It was actually my first any-date with a Jewish guy.
We had pizza and went to this wine bar, where he entertained at least four people at once. Some Jewish men say Woody Allen ruined their game; others call him a hero. This man was of the latter neurotic-and-proud camp.
A few strange things were revealed as the night wore on. For starters, the guy was a smoker who needed to go outside every hour or so for a cigarette. I thought that was gross.
He was older than he’d originally told me. Then he said that he was engaged to a woman in Thailand. I was surprised, but the premise of our outing was completely platonic.
I raised my eyebrows, and he said, “I know, I know.”
He told me that he was the first of many Jewish men in my life. He could see it clearly - I give good guilt.
I laughed and drank glass after glass of wine.
We shared a cab. I got out at another place to meet someone I’d been casually dating. The guy told me he thought my date owed him some money, as I was being delivered tipsy. Then he said I was a good egg and to have lots of fun in NYC.
Sometime in the span of that cab ride and another one to my apartment and the next morning, it snowed nearly twenty inches.
I crawled out from under the covers, and promptly wished I hadn’t. The floor was cold. My head was hot and pounding.
My first blizzard coincided with my first hangover.
I needed to take some Tylenol, but I knew I had to eat first. I bundled up and walked shakily down the 39 steps to the front door. I felt so bad that when I walked outside, I wasn’t sure if I was witnessing the aftermath of a blizzard or just losing consciousness.
There’s nothing like walking through NYC in snow. People stay inside. Roads, sidewalks, and cars are wrapped in white. Sounds are swallowed. The entire city is temporarily beautiful.
The crunch underfoot of powder, ice, and salt reassured me. “I haven’t fallen yet,” I thought. “Watch out - huge puddle! Go around this way.” I walked a few blocks to a deli to get a muffin and some juice. I soon felt better and went back to the apartment for my camera.
By the time I resurfaced, more people were awake. Some dug their cars out of snow. Parents lugged sleds and kids in snowsuits. A man raced by on skis.
With the world in soft focus, everyone seemed to look at each other more closely. I didn’t feel shy about whipping out my camera to record my familiar neighborhood and the strangers in it.
This is what I thought of last night as the snow whipped my face and settled on my coat and hat.
I went one way down 96th Street and turned to study the tracks I’d left. When I returned to walk back, they were already filled.
That’s how I think much of life is. Someone or something makes such an impression on you, only to be replaced.
It’s a can that undents. A rough fabric that relaxes in the wash.
Life is nothing but beautiful-painful-beautiful-painful rebounds.
I like those moments when things come together in such a way that it’s now and then at once.
That’s what happens during blizzards.
Walking in a blizzard wonderland from Amanda Green on Vimeo.
I didn’t think NYC received a blizzard’s worth of snow! I thought you kids had considerably less than those of us here in the USA’s armpit. We topped out at exactly 24 inches and they still only deemed ours a “snow storm”! I think the weather people need to redefine their conditions.
Yeah, I thought calling it a blizzard was a bit much, too. But everywhere I went: “Blizzard! Watch out for the blizzard! Get inside so you miss the blizzard.” The wind was pretty strong at one point.
This is by far one of my favorites of your I Live NYC posts. “I like those moments when things come together in such a way that it’s now and then at once.” Love, love, love it.