Baby it's cold outside

On Sunday I spent the afternoon at the zoo wearing a tank top and a skirt. I closed my eyes and spread my arms out wide in a gesture that could only be described as basking, said "Bring on the Vitamin D!" (yes, audibly), and bragged that soon I would be a bronzed goddess (if soon means never gonna happen, that is).

And today? Today I flew to Chicago. Today I obsessed over winter weather advisories and flight delays. Today I flew through piles of fluffy clouds that left ice on the window next to me. Today I got off the plane and was met by a wave of cold air the likes of which haven't been seen in Houston since…umm…never. Today I bundled up in my winter coat (which has been severely neglected since I got home from Germany), scarf, and gloves, and queued up for a taxi so that the Best Friend didn't have to brave the dangerous icy roads. Today I saw my breath in the air, lost sensation in my legs, and actually felt my body heat escaping through my hatless head. Today I sat in the back of a cab and listened to local news stories such as a brand new addition to the snow plow fleet ("It's a sight to be seen, Bob.") and Evanston's street salt shortage ("We're just hoping spring comes really early this year.")

It's a different world here up North.

Thank goodness the folks at Continental eased the shock for me by keeping the cabin temperature at a crisp 48 degrees for the duration of my flight.