Strange phenomenon

It's a snow day today, a freak occurrence for London. Trains and buses stopped running, schools shut down, flights were canceled, streets ran barren, pubs were empty. The city pretty much came to a standstill, leaving thousands stranded, all for six inches of snow. It's not a lot, and coming from Rochester where snow is an everyday winter fixture, this is downright laughable. But I didn't let out a guffaw or as critics like to say a 'big belly laugh'; instead I observed, how something so commonplace to me is alien to a city full of people, how something I'd consider a mere nuisance others would view as a luxury, and how something I'd grown tired and oblivious of others think as lovely. Especially my roommate. He really liked the snow. When it was still flurrying, and once it hit that critical moment and became snow, he looked out the window for stretches at a time, never once changing his glance and all the meanwhile commenting on how pretty it all looked. It was kind of beautiful and enlightening to see someone get so worked up about something I had no particular thoughts towards. It made me want to feel more of that childlike naivety that we all have growing up but lose as we become more used to things, expecting them to be instead of thanking or appreciating their mere be-ing.

(Sorry for all the emotional/psychological speak, but it's how I've felt ever since taking the feelings class at school. Just the other day, for instance, I was at the Natural History Museum, watching videos on how animals bond and play, when I almost teared up. It was moving to see how we're (at the basest level) no different than our closest relatives. It was so pure. They were grooming and playing for their own sakes, not to achieve a higher purpose. I'm not saying I want to be an animal, all I'm saying is "As above, so below.")

In other news, I had an important realization today concerning my time abroad. Most students--and I lump myself into this category--go abroad with the idea of doing extensive traveling. They want to see and experience the faraway sights and sounds of cultures they'd otherwise never get the chance to. And then reality sets in, and like how the apple struck Isaac Newton on the head, giving him the idea of gravity, you hit upon the notion that all these cultures and cities you'd like to experience, and experience them right, cost money. And lots of it. You think that if you fail to travel then it's time wasted, a whole semester of potential fun and adventure down the drain. But simultaneously with the above idea came its exact opposite, that is not traveling and how much fun that'd be. Today it hit me that even if I didn't travel, if I spent my entire time in London and its surrounding areas, cooped up in a double and class during the day and exploring the city whenever I had the chance, I'd still have a good time and wouldn't regret going abroad. I'm not saying this won't be the case; I want to do some traveling, and damn hell plan on it! I'm just going to be more careful when choosing my destinations, as opposed to doing so in a haphazard manner or going to places because other people are going. I want my trips, just like everything I do, to mean something; otherwise, what's the point?