I love winter. I do. I get all excited over the possibility of walking in a snowstorm (much better than driving in one), or sitting wrapped in my fuzzy robe with a cup of cocoa in my hands. I even like the cold, if my feet are warm, which is a good thing, considering how the weather in Wisconsin is going to be brutal (you had to show those pictures, mrschimpf, didn’t you?). And honestly, I don’t really like summer — I hate being hot and I feel like I waste most of my energy moping around, whining about the heat.

That being said – the cold and snow here is not agreeing with my summer adjusted self. The skin of the sole of my feet have split (right across the blisters I developed from walking around Amsterdam, I might add) and I’m having a very difficult time walking. I can’t seem to get my feet warm, regardless of the number of socks I’ve put on and the toasty rice bag from the microwave seems to lose its heat the moment I take it from the microwave.

*sniff* I miss Africa…

And this is the first time that I’ve missed watching the Olympics. I haven’t even turned them on, since I missed most of the 16 days. I still have tapes at my parents home of the 1994 Olympics and after experiencing the Olympics here just four years ago, it’s a bit of a loss not being glued to the screen, admiring the athletes of their skill and grace that I completely lack.