One is not a degree...

Ummm...so I am not the slightest bit political, but let me say, for the record, that I no longer believe in Global Warming. Nothing about the "globe" is at all "warm"at the moment. Al Gore might want to take a visit to Appleton,Wisconsin and watch as his fingers become frozen to his large diet coke from Subway...just saying...

I thought that the coldest I would ever be in my life was in Boston aught 2003 when we decided to walk the Freedom Trail in March. In Boston. In March. Outside. The Freedom Trail. Phillip and Christian took my blue fleece hat, covered my face, and led me through the Commons while I screamed as if I was on a roller coaster. In my mind I was on a roller coaster...a roller coaster headed straight for Antarctica and icebergs and death and the whole scene from Titanic kept spinning over and over in my head..."just let go"...I wanted to just let go...

But the boys kept me from jumping off the ledge and lead me back to Phillips warm apartment with the cliche cup of hot chocolate and matching I (heart) NY tshirts and glow in the dark star pajama pants...

Well, I WAS WRONG...The coldest I would ever be in my life was this morning at the Appleton airport when walking through the Hertz rental car parking lot. 

We showed up at 7 this morning to rent a car for the drive from Appleton (which is in Wisconsin) and Detroit (which is north of Canada, just fyi) and the Hertz grandma worker woman kept saying.."I am sorry the only car I have is at the very end of the lot." "I am so sorry."

Anthony and I just kept looking at each other, thinking how friendly and overly concerned these Midwesterners are,and we were like...yeah, yeah, lady...where's the car??

It was in Bumble Fuck North Pole is where it was and as Anthony and I rolled all of our earthly posessions along the snowy asphalt I began to lose feeling in my hands. 

First they felt cold, then they ached, then they burned (which actually felt a little good), next up was the feeling that they might just completely break off, then it felt like I had pins and needles in every nerve ending on my hand, wishing I could go back to the breaking off feeling, trying to break them off, realizing that I couldnt even feel one hand enough to try to break the bones of the other hand...

We got into the car and funbled with the keys, heat, trunk...anything that required touching cause shooting pains in our purpley blueish hands. Anthony and I were about to cry when I realized I couldnt hear...or rather, I could hear,but I couldnt feel my ear. The right one. At all. 

Sitting in the car for about ten minutes while trying to regain feeling in either my hands or my ear was some of the worst time spent in my life. (No offense Anthony, you were wonderful company and if I wanted to be in excruciating pain in a parking lot in Wisconsin with anyone, it would be you)

Luckily, my hands are now fully functioning, in their best baby claw way, and my ear has faded from a maroonish teal color to its natural skin tone. Anthony has also fully physically recovered but I am not sure when the emotional scars will heal for either one of us. 

I was born in Florida. This shouldnt happen to me.