Any Skiiers Out There?

Logic suggests that when one speaks of "snow" in April that one is speaking of the kind that you buy by the ounce in the back of Uncle Ming's. But logic doesn't dictate the weather in New York in the springtime. Sunday was a glorious spring day in the Park. I went for my daily run in my shorts. I lolled about on the grass making fun of passers-by and cursed the moron who almost knocked over my Gatorade with his ill-thrown football. Ah, spring.

But, the events of 4/5/2006 will forever be burned in my memory.

7:30 AM: I wake up and go for my daily run.
9:30 AM: I leave for work. It's cloudy out. The news ticker in Times Square (where my office is unfortuantely located) mentioned something about snow being in the forecast. I dismiss it as bullshit.
10:21 AM: I look outside and it's flurrying. I yell to my assistant, "It's snowing!" This could be fun.
11:16 AM: I look outside and it's blizzard-like conditions. In a frenzy, I e-mail all my friends (especially those in warm climates) and start snapping pictures of the snowstorm with my camera phone.
11:20 AM: A friend emails me to say she's got a blacket wrapped around her. They really breed 'em tough in corporate Manhattan.
11:56 AM: Friend in California ridicules me for my choice of cities to live in.

THERE'S A SNOWSTORM IN APRIL! AND IT'S GOT NOTHING TO DO WITH THE COKE!

3:08 PM: Sky is blue. Birds are chirping. No trace of aforementioned snowstorm. Mother Nature, you big bad bitch.