Marshmallow jacket and Doc Martin knock-offs

It is 34 degrees tonight, and the low for tonight should be around 26. It is very cold for southern Mississippi. One thing that I have realized since moving to Alaska is that 34 in Mississippi is not the same as 34 in Eagle River, Alaska. No my friends, it is much colder. It may simply be that my body has just gotten spoiled from the high temps of summer and mild temps of winter here in the south. However, I am convinced that it feels much colder. The humidity in the air makes you feel cold all the way to your bones. I'm not joking, AK people. It is cold. I may have become a wimp, but I was cold tonight in 34 degree weather. Meanwhile in Eagle River, it was in the 30s this afternoon and my parents are declaring a heat wave. Fantastic. I may have really become the world's wimpiest former Alaskan.

As I was standing in the cold tonight, breathing in the cool air, I started having flashbacks, back to high school. For a large chunk of high school, I had to ride the bus. Yes, the bus. Go ahead and laugh a little if you must, but since I was not privileged enough to own a car, I didn't have much of a choice. It wasn't too bad. I usually got a good portion of my homework done, and my little brother and I had some good brother-sister bonding time. The only bad part was the dark, cold mornings in January. If you ever were to ask me what my least favorite month is, I would tell you- January. Why? Well, aside from MLKJr. Day, which was always a nice day off from school, January is the most depressing, coldest month of the whole year. It is dark for a ridiculously large amount of time and it is cold. Seriously cold. Well, in 9th grade I had this really puffy, white coat. It was off-white. I can't remember if it was off-white when I bought it or if it just became that way over time, but that doesn't really matter. Anyway, this cute boy that rode my bus called it my marshmallow jacket. He told me I looked like a fluffy, slightly-toasted marshmallow standing there in the snow as the bus pulled up to pick me up for school. Now looking back on it, I think I should have been at least a little offended that this cute guy was comparing me to a marshmallow, but somehow in my 14 year old brain, I thought it was great. I loved my marshmallow jacket. Since it is very cold in Alaska in January, it was wise to wear a warm coat like my marshmallow coat. But that is where my wisdom stopped. My shoes were quite another story. Now from what I understand styles in Alaska are sometimes behind styles in the lower forty-eight, but at the time the shoes that were most in-style would be Doc Martins. I had these amazingly cute Doc Martin knock-offs from Payless that I absolutely loved. And for some reason, I had the idea that I had to wear my Doc Martins to school at all times. It didn't matter if it was January, 2 degrees outside, and I had to stand outside in the cold to wait for a bus. None of that mattered. I had to wear my shoes. Well Mississippi people, I have to admit that I wore socks with my Doc Martins. I know, I know. You should never wear socks with sandals or open-toed shoes of any kind. However, rules are different in Alaska in single digit weather. In Alaska, at least in 9th grade, everyone wore socks with their Doc Martins.

I hope I have created for you a mental picture of my 9th grade flashback: Skinny girl with stringy brown hair wearing a huge marshmallow coat with her hands tucked deeply inside, thin jean-covered legs with Doc Martin knockoffs and socks on her feet. That was me. I always had to put my hands in my pockets because somehow I always managed to forget my mittens, much to my mother's displeasure. I can't tell you how many times I came home from school in trouble because I showed up at the house with bare hands. (You would think that stepping outside in frigid temperatures would remind me. Oh well.) It is interesting how life's situations often give you little flashbacks to the past. For example, the smell of freshly baked cookies may remind you of being at Grandma's, or maybe freshly cut grass may bring you back to the baseball field. For me, it is the sharp sting of cold air in my nose and lungs that carries me back to those school bus days. On a night like tonight, I am in great need of another marshmallow jacket.