It's a bit late. So I haven't much for a creative blog post. But the cold has come. Surrounded by clearly frozen drains, I watched my spit freeze on the ground as I spoke with a friend on the phone outside the subway tonight. We're at a balmy 26 degrees here folks. Wind chill included, I'd say that puts us at, well, damn cold. I know, I know, I grew up in Minnesota. I grew up in Colorado. Well, 26 degrees is cold there too. And yes, there is a certain degree of relativity that goes along with temperatures (my California friends putting their two cents in about their arctic dip into the 50s). I get that. I'm not saying I am the most objectively, validly cold person to ever live. I'm just saying that I am, in all my subjectivity, cold toed, cold fingered, cold eared, and in general right now, cold.
So you might see me wearing puffin (my gloriously named puffy down coat from Alaskan summers past) soon, and you might hear me swearing on the street as the wind whips through the wind-tunneling avenues, and yes, I might be more inclined to have another glass of wine inside rather than to go out in to the frigid night air. I promise, I'll adjust. I just might not go quietly.