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Tuesday, January 28, 2003 The Artic Blog This cold weather is dangerous: people around the country have been dying both from the cold itself and from trying to keep warm (in other words, their space heaters have caused fires--they cause an estimated 50,000 each year). A 50-year-old homeless man froze to death in Detroit. Imagine, instead of frozen fish sticks we'll have frozen human sticks. Ok, maybe that was too gross to be funny.... However, we're approaching a tie with Alaska at last. It finally feels like we're in the double-digits! The temperature is currently 25F (feels like 17F) in Ann Arbor, Michigan and 27F (feels like 19F) in Anchorage, Alaska. So it's still colder here but at least the gap is getting closer! (Here's where you start asking, "What the heck is this girl's obesession with Alaska?!") Freezing temperatures brought jokes from almost every performer at Friday night's Ann Arbor Folk Festival. The ones who didn't joke about how cold it was either quipped that they wouldn't because we'd been hearing that all night or mentioned that they were from the tundra as well. I told you that the weather is news in Michigan. And you didn't believe me. Heh. And the final blurb for today's entry: here's the first paragraph (as it stands right now, anyway) of the short story I'm currently working on. It's untitled and incomplete, but the beginning should be amusing: I can’t handle this Michigan cold. Why did my parents ever move to this God-forsaken tundra? Siberia can’t be much worse. I’m walking along the streets of Ann Arbor under twinkling yellow lights left over from Christmas, huddled into the inadequate warmth of my wool peacoat, wondering how long this hyperborean weather can keep up—this morning it was colder here than in Anchorage, Alaska. Alaska! Alaska was in the double-digits; we were in the negatives. Maybe I should move to Alaska… Jewel did it and she ended up a superstar. Maybe frigid temperatures make you stay indoors, working that much harder at the things you care about. Maybe when the wind is blistering it doesn’t matter anymore what others think and you’re free to be yourself. Maybe when you wonder if you look like a pathetic dragon blowing steam and smoke instead of fire it doesn’t matter if you’ve always been on the outside. Maybe the warmth of a fire would be open to all, lest they die in cryogenic stasis. Or maybe I’m just full of crap. ^ Top | 11:48 AM | | | 
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