My friend Joe moved here from California at the beginning of the school year. I don't often think of him as "my friend from California," because he has evolved into my "friend who still gets very excited when it snows even though it's March and every one else is very done with winter." The first real storm we had was after a bad weekend of freezing rain. Everything had a layer of ice over it, and then dandelion puffs began to drift down. Joe was ecstatic. Though he is seventeen, he was overjoyed with the thought of frolicking in the snow, despite our warnings that snow over ice is terrible and very slippery.
Fast forward five months, to today. Since the rest of this week has been fairly warm, I thought it safe to wear a daisy printed dress with a thin green sweater. Knowing that the temperature rises through the day, I felt this to be appropriate. I was sorely mistaken. I ended up walking home with Joe, in snow. This is the boy who is in a winter coat and boots walking with a girl in a cotton dress and converse.
Once we parted ways to get to our own abodes, I started thinking of the deplorable winters here. It started getting unbearably cold in mid November. We have endured almost half of a year in winter. By the time I got home, I could barely unlock the door because I couldn't feel my fingers, my nose had moved far beyond a cute pink and was now blue, and I was miserable, this is also entirely my fault for not wearing a coat.
If you were to interview anyone living in the north east right now, my bet is on the fact that they will all be cranky and eager for the equinox, which will likely bring about no such change in the frigid Massachusetts air.
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