I'm moving farther south.

I woke up on a fine sunny morning, exactly one week ago. I watched the palm tree across the quad dance playfully in a light breeze and took in the warm glow of the tile roofs below my window basking in the sun. It looked like a beautiful day for a run around Audubon park. I threw on some shorts and a t-shirt and headed down on the elevator. When I got off several people got on, all wearing hoodies and jeans, and all acting like they'd just had to brave a blizzard. The girl working the desk had on a stocking cap and a winter jacket, and was telling someone that it wasn't supposed to get above 70 all day.

Pansies. I thought, You should see Cimarron County this time of year, and opened the door.

I was greeted with a furious gust of freezing cold air that took my breath away. What the hell is this? My sub-tropically minded mind thought. I immediately started shivering. I began to walk quickly off towards the park. After walking quickly for about a block I knew I'd have to run to keep my blood from freezing. I balled my hands into fists to keep from getting frostbite and ran off at a furious pace. After a few minutes I could feel the warmth returning to my legs and arms, and my heart wasn't feeling quite so sluggish, but my fingers still felt like little cubes of ice. By the time I reached the park my nose was running and my cheeks were surely nice and rosy. As I made my way around the park I noticed that very few New Orleanians were out in this monstrous weather, and the ones that were were dressed for the occasion. I saw an elderly couple powerwalking in knee length parkas with the hoods up. A mom pushed a stroller that contained a gigantic ball of blankets that nearly completely concealed a toddler. Here I was, running along nearly naked, about ready to drop dead of exposure at any moment.

After a couple miles my lungs were on fire, the bitter cold air seared them with every breath. My ears were aching from the punishing wind and my tears were turning my eyelashes into little icicles. Through an incredible feat of man vs nature I made it back to campus. I remembered that there was a thermometer on one of the buildings and ran over to check out what mind blowing temperatures I was barely surviving. Surely it was the low 40s, maybe high 30s. When I reached the thermometer I thought I was either hallucinating or I'd forgotten how to read one. 64? There's no way that's right. I'm about to die here. My cold numbed mind couldn't process this. I dejectedly walked back to the dorm and jumped in a hot shower until feeling returned to my toes.

You people have to come down here for Christmas, because I won't survive December in Holyoke.