In all reality, I like the snow. I was really looking forward to seeing a storm while I was home for Christmas, and I was disappointed when that never happened. I like the way snow at home comes down in huge fluffy flakes and manages to make the world quiet and small. I like how it makes me want to curl up on the couch with a book or a movie, some hot chocolate or chai tea, and Droo. The air is crisp and clean after it snows, and for some reason it's not as cold.
So I was really excited when I looked outside last night and it was snowing lightly - the combination of the time of night, dim light, and lack of people made this city look almost pretty.

Then I remembered that the snow here is lacking in the beauty department. Instead of quieting things it makes a disgusting plop-plop-plop noise as it hits the grown, and then quickly turns into slush that soaks your pants. The wind doesn't let it fall in swirling patters, but somehow manages to blow it directly into your eyes no matter what direction you face.
And my snow boots give me blisters on my heals. I've been walking around on my toes all morning after I got back from work and had a quarter-sized blister on each foot.