By Michaela Papa, Columnist

Sitting down to write this editorial I had every intention of writing about the things I will miss at Hofstra while being abroad this spring. Though, as I was generating my list it began to take a turn.

While Hofstra cookies, Music Fest and entertainingly horrifying public safety alerts are on the list of things I’ll miss, I will not miss the Long Island “snow”. I was recently reading an article on the world’s largest snowman. If anybody on Long Island made a snowman that didn’t look like it was made by Pigpen it would deserve applause.

I think snow is the best thing in the world. Not a vast overstatement. That being said, Long Island snow may be the most depressing thing in the world. Not a vast overstatement. I didn’t think it was possible for slush to occur before snow even hit the ground, but I was proved entirely wrong freshman year. Slush actually falls from the sky on Long Island. There is no real snow.

The world record for World’s Tallest Snowman is held by Bethel, Maine for their latest snowman completed on February 19, 2008. This snow-woman stood 122’1” tall. This height beat Bethel’s previous record of 1999 with a snowwoman standing at 113’7”. Their first shot at the record in 1999 took five months to plan; an attempt to up the previous Japanese record of 96’7”.

For the 2008 snowman the Bethel creation, aptly named Olympia SnowWoman, was made of 13,000,000 lbs of snow. The eyelashes of Olympia were made of 16 skis, and the eyes were five-foot wreathes.

Corncob pipes and button noses be damned—Olympia donned a “carrot” nose made of muslin, chicken wire and a wood frame made by elementary school children. Work it, Olympia. Frosty has nothing on you. With 2,000 feet of rope hair, this Bethel native was quiet a looker.

Though lacking the traditional top hat, this snow woman wore a 48-foot circumference fleece hat hand-crafted by middle school students …because without the hat, she would just look silly.

Bethel’s first building of the freakish feminine Frosty took them fifteen days to complete. In their second creation in 2008 the construction took 30 days. This was a large process, to say the least. The Bethel area natives attempted to use as much natural snow as possible—though, they did have assistance from those at Sunday River Ski Resort.

It wasn’t until the end of July 2008 that Olympia melted entirely. At five months old, Olympia clearly put up the good fight.

While I’m gone, I hope for Hofstra to execute several changes. I anxiously await a reply to my countless emails to administration to implement a horse and buggy shuttle system from Colonial Square to Dutch Treats. Furthermore, I hope that Hofstra begins preparation for the largest snowman competition.

I think that the water from the giant puddles at Hofstra, specifically around C-Square and outside of Hofstra Hall, should be funneled into Snow Guns. The water of the puddles would then be turned into snow and distributed around campus. This would make the world, and more specifically Hofstra, a better place. Snow for all. No more moat-like puddles…just fuel for cheer.

So, for now, Hofstra, I bid you and the United States farewell.  I’ll think of you fondly as I gorge on various cheeses in May, as you anxiously await Midnight Breakfast just to horde bagels because your meal plan ran out three weeks ago. Have a lovely holiday. Watch Charlie Brown, drink copious amounts of eggnog, and try not to think too hard about returning to the land of soulless snow that is Long Island.