The Mystery of the MIA Season

Summer in Santiago. Summer in Santiago was mildly horrifying on many levels. It was so hot that I had to apply my non-aluminum, allegedly non-cancer-causing (thanks for the tip, Sara!), deodorant at least 4 times a day. So hot that I could barely go on runs without seeing at least one hallucination-induced mirage. So hot that even sitting, even lying down on my bed (with all the blankets on the ground of course), even merely existing, made me drip buckets. So hot that one of the only ways to survive was to eat Danky's Blanco y Negro flavored ice cream every day. Actually, that last part was pretty damn fun. That ice cream is the shit. But I digress. 

And now, after 3 months of kvetching about the horrid heat of the Santiago summer, winter has finally arrived. How do I know this? When I got ready for school yesterday, I looked over my shoe collection, and without even a thought, swiftly rejected my Rufo (my host family's dog)-chewed, worn-down, Rainbow sandals in favor for my non-Rufo-chewed, worn-down Ugg boots. And I haven't looked back since. 

But now, I spend at least a quarter of the time in my house shivering or getting goose bumps, and the temperature of my hands could probably be accurately described by Stephanie Meyer - the author of the Twilight series - as similar to Edward's. No, scratch that. Colder. Much colder than a vampire's. And I walk around my house looking like an oompa loompa in my puffy ski jacket because it is the only thing that makes me feel like I'm not going to go into immediate hypothermic shock. And when I go on runs, I run like an old man because I can barely breathe from the smoggy cold. 

What's even worse, this season change happened so suddenly. Literally 5 days ago it was summer. And now all I want to do is wear long underwear (how I wish I had some)....and drink tea....and eat soup for eternity. What ever happened to that transitory season called "Fall?" It must have been kidnapped, because it certainly didn't show up this year.

"Be careful what you wish for." Cliché phrases: 1. Jenn: 0.