Fluffy snow

It happened one night. Specifically, last night. Mike, Matt, Matt's brother Mark and a couple of Matt's friends and I went downtown for what was supposed to be a magical display of horse-drawn carriages and live models posing in windows, but was instead nothing. So we ate at BAR and then had a cocktail at the Owl Shop. While we were inside, the anticipated snow began to fall.

Fortunately, our status as students enables us to use the complimentary shuttle service. Unfortunately, our driver took us to the wrong address, for a humorous exchange. He opened the door -- in the snowstorm, at night -- and said nothing. We looked at each other curiously, since we were the only people on the bus, and asked the driver, "Excuse me, are we picking someone up?" He said, "No, this is _______." We said, "OK, but we're going to _________." Then the awkwardness -- he just sat there with the door open and didn't say anything. Thirty seconds went by, until I finally said, "I'm sorry for the confusion, but we're not getting off this bus at night in the middle of a snowstorm a mile from our house. Please take us to ________." Exacerbated, he did so.

This morning, we awoke to a wonderland of joy. Pictured above are Matt and Mark trying to shovel snow out of the way so that Mark may return to his home and family.