It’s cold outside. Like, chill-you-to-the-bones cold. So cold, not even your North Face jacket and Uggs can save you. The moment you step outside to go that class-you-really-wish-you-could-skip-but-the-TA-is-a-jerk-who-will-dock-your-grade-if-you-miss-even-one, the air stings your face and makes your eyes water. And as you walk/run to what is obviously the furthest building on campus, looking at the ground to avoid snowflakes flying in your eyes, you curse yourself for not opting for a school in a warmer climate. Like on the sun.

And it’s not much better when you get back home. Thanks to your 100-year-old college house with walls so thin you wonder if they’re made out of paper, it’s cold inside, too. No matter what you do – drink hot cocoa, take a hot shower, have some steamy sexy time – you can’t shake the chill. So you layer on the warmest sweatshirt you’ve got, double up on the socks, put on your Snuggie and climb under your down comforter.

You’ve got things to do to, but your hands are too cold to grip a highlighter. And your bed is too cozy to get out of it to do the laundry. And no matter how hot that hot yoga class is, there’s no way in hell you’re going back into the frozen tundra to get to there.

So you stay in bed, blaming your lack of activity on the weather. Read More »

Turns out, just because I’m 6 months out of college doesn’t mean I’ve stopped making stupid life-threatening decisions. Take this past Saturday, for example.

Despite reports that there was a massive blizzard outside, I sat inside and got ready to go out for the night. All the news reports recommended staying in. But, like usual, I thought I knew better than the news. I assumed that checking weather.com daily qualified me to be a meteorologist. At the very least, it qualified me to change my last name to Roker on my Facebook profile. So in the face of the oncoming “blizzard,” my friends and I got dressed, did our hair and headed out to a party.

It was freezing cold and snowflakes were blowing into parts of my body even my gynecologist hadn’t explored. So we hailed a cab and hopped inside. The car swerved, it swooped, and it stalled. At one point I’m pretty sure we were just gliding on ice. The cab driver even hung up with whoever was on the other end of that Bluetooth.  And at that moment I realized how serious things were.

I haven’t felt that unsafe since I stood up on Space Mountain. Read More »

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