By Katie Donovan

As the winter weather continues here in New York, I find that I am not as unprepared for the weather as my family back home in Florida may have held concern for. The historical blizzard that was supposed to swamp us with tremendous gusts of snow and wind only two weeks back ended up being a flop. My backyard was really the only area around me that looked like much of anything had been covered in snow by the time morning rolled around. I had prepared myself for the worst, however. My roommate and I stocked up on supplies and candles in case of power outages. We lugged gallons of water up the street from the local mart and back home again. Piles of dried foods lined our mini island countertop and we sat back, happily ready to witness the storm.

I must admit I was somewhat disappointed in the outcome. I had grown excited about all of the alleged snow due to the surrounding hype on the news stations across the country. On the first day of “Juno,” I made my way down the street and towards the local park in Bushwick. I just had to see it for myself, all covered in snow. It was beautiful. I made a quick lap around the block taking photos and laughing as the snow and wind pelted my face.  I imagine now, that was the extent of the damage Juno had actually caused us.

Since being here, I have yet to slip and fall – in public that is. I fear the icy streets and sidewalks the most. I’ve seen a few people go down pretty hard as the unsuspecting, dark colored ice sneaks up on them. I’m often impressed by their resilience and quick recovery times. I find myself looking ahead at every corner as to not take one too quickly and later find myself sprawled out across the sidewalk for all to see.

My roommate, (also from Florida), and I laugh often as we walk to the subway, dressed in layers. The greatest struggle for us has been the indoor aspects of life. We can’t seem to figure out how to layer properly for the cutting cold outside, and later prevent ourselves from sweating indoors, or carrying around scarves, coats, and hats everywhere. It will become easier over time, I’m sure.

These heaters in the apartment are quite the trick as well. In Florida we had central A/C and heating and with the touch of a button, it was either on or off. Half the time, I’m bent over underneath a table, crawling on my hands and knees in search of some fiery hot knob that needs to be turned, oh about five hundred times. I seem to have mastered, always turning it in the wrong direction on the first try. Every time. I gave up on the heaters. I now sit and work by the heater with the window open. The left part of my body is often frozen, while the right side melts away. I guess I have found some sort of equilibrium in all this craziness.

I often wonder if other people are sitting in their apartments with one sock and one glove on, just trying to balance out their internal temperatures based on external extremes? Likely they are not, but I can remain hopeful that I’m not the only one still adjusting to a new city and new forms of seasonal weather conditions.