It was a cold February afternoon. Actually, as all Columbians know, there are few February afternoons around campus that are anything but cold. So it's probably sufficient to say that it was a February afternoon.

I was searching for some obscure book on the battle of Cannae amongst the stacks in Butler. I can't recall what floor I was on. I wandered around the stacks for several minutes and seemed to have come to the end of the floor. But, around the corner, I saw a dull, incandescent yellow glow. I followed it and discovered an archway into an area of the stacks I had never seen before.

Entering the first room through the arch, I could see that the walls were exposed brick. And all the shelves were wooden and dusty. The air was stale, and the whole environment seemed detached from the rest of Butler.

As I continued, the air grew chill, and I could see my breath. I figured the heat just wasn't working in this part of the building.

But as I continued, I felt the floor crunching below my feet. I was startled to find pure, white snow.

At this point I thought I might be having a reaction to some bad acid, and then I remembered the last time I did that was when I ran into Newt Gingrich at The Irish Times in D.C. It's a long story and not entirely relevant to what happened in the library because, like I said, I realized that I wasn't on anything.

I decided to trudge along and eventually came to what I can only describe as a clearing. In the middle of the clearing was, of all things, a tall lamp post. Now, I was hardly expecting this in the middle of the library, but it was iron and rusty, and I assumed it was some historical artifact the University was storing there.

Then, out of the blue, I heard a bell in the distance and, out from behind a stray bookcase of poorly stacked periodicals came a white sleigh being pulled by a height-challenged man. In the sleigh was a pale, blonde-haired woman with icy blue eyes. It seemed odd, but I know Columbia is dedicated to diversity, and I was down with all that.

The woman asked if I liked Turkish delight, which I don't. And besides, I'm more partial to brunettes. But she was kind of cute, and my Cannae essay wasn't due for a few days, and I was in 'the stacks'--so I asked her if she had any Twizzlers instead. She seemed puzzled and claimed not to know what Twizzlers was.

That's when I realized something bizarre was going on. I mean diversity or not, if you don't know what Twizzlers is, that's just wierd.

So, I go back the way I came, and she's yelling something after me about the son of Adam or something, so now I know she's got the wrong guy because my dad's name is Leo.

And, wouldn't you know it, the book I was searching for was right before me on a shelf just as I exited through the archway.

I got an 'A' on my essay. I never did see the pale woman again. Although, I could have sworn I recognized her amongst a cadre of support staff standing behind President Bush while he was giving some speech about all the positive things that were happening in Iraq.