You'd thinking having gone to university in Syracuse would accustom me to the bitter cold and snow.
Maybe it has something to do with the human preservation tactic of forgetting the things that bring you down in life.
How could I forget how long it takes to add all those layers on in the morning? Or that I can't walk out with wet hair when the wind makes the air outside feel like 16 degrees. Today, I went to tug the ear flaps on my hat only to be poked with a piece of my own frozen hair. Gross.
So here's a slap of the wrist to Ol' Man Winter. Bugger Off! Go find some other American region to harass.