Sweaty and Hungry

Me in the cold

     Just so you know, I live in Moorhead Minnesota and it's ridiculously cold here. Let me paint you a little picture of how insanely cold it is. You look out your window and see a bright blue sky and magnificently glowing sun, and so you rejoice. Walking outside with a big dumb grin on your face you find you can't move your lips, your face has been frozen. In an attempt to warm up your face you try to move your hands, which have been frozen inside your coat pockets. The only part of yourself that you can move is your legs, but you can't really move your feet. So you begin your epic journey with a very creepy minion-esc limp. I think that's the best comparison, it's so dang cold outside that you end up looking like Dr. Frankenstein's assistant. That was my month of January.

Putting on my warm clothes

      One of my New Year's resolutions was to walk more, and so I decided it would be a good idea to walk to my organ lessons. I have a lesson once a week at a church that is a couple blocks away from Concordia (my college) and I thought it would be a good idea to start walking there instead of driving. Preparing myself for the cold temperatures I wore a thick sweater, a heavy jacket, warm socks, grippy boots, earmuffs, and jeans. When I was done bundling I looked like a deranged woolly mammoth about to cross the Arctic Tundra, which was not far from the truth. I set out on my journey with determination, that was immediately swept away by the -40 degree wind that slapped my face. It felt like I was standing outside in a swimsuit instead of 80 layers of clothing. Despite the cold I pressed on toward my destination, my organ lesson was waiting.

My face with frostbite

    Trudging up 8th street I bent my head into the wind and discovered I couldn't feel my legs, this wouldn't have been a problem except I was going to need them to play the organ. Concentrating heavily on my appendages I willed my blood to circulate faster. My heart must have heard me because all of the sudden I realized how sweaty I was, and it was freaking me out. Girls are not supposed to sweat and be all gross, but I broke a stereotype that day by becoming excessively sweaty. The combination of walking and 6 shirts had taken its toll on my upper half and I wanted nothing more that to remove my coat. Keep in mind that while my upper half was boiling my lower half was reaching the early stages of frost bite and would probably need to be amputated. The wind stung my face and caused my eyes to water profusely. Now I was sweaty, tearing up, and also becoming slightly disoriented as I could swear the church was getting further away instead of closer. Fighting against all the odds I reached the church safely, if not with a slight freezer burn on my face and legs.  

Look out rabbits, I'm hungry

    Once my lesson was over I prepared myself for the journey home, which was with the wind instead of against it. Even though it wasn't as face-numbingly cold, I still became rather sweaty. It was at this point that I realized my epic hunger. It seems that battling against the Arctic winds can cause you to work up an appetite. If there had been small prey in my sights, I'm pretty sure some basic animal instinct would have kicked in and I would become conscious of my actions only after I had a big bite of raw dead rabbit in my mouth. Barreling my way through the snow and ice I finally reached my destination, the theatre lobby. My face was red, my makeup was streaking, and my hair looked like it had become caught in a wood chipper. Opening my bleary snowblind eyes in the dark lobby I spotted two of my friends. They asked how I was doing. My reply? "If I were to write an autobiography right now it would be titled Sweaty and Hungry."