"Um, isn't it cold in Seattle?"
This is the reaction I usually get when I complain about not being able to feel my fingers/toes/face/entire body after being outside for more than a few minutes. Paris cold is a different breed from anything that I've previously experienced - even born-and-bred New Yorkers living here will tell you as much. It seeps right into your bones, making you think twice about leaving the apartment. You dread having to go to class or work and social commitments become a drag, particularly going out.
What do you wear when it's freezing outside but sweltering in the club? This conundrum is a novelty for me because at Stanford, even in winter, one could easily get away with not wearing a jacket when out party-hopping on weekends. I miss being able to wear open-toed shoes year-round and never needing to use a coat check. But as spoiled as we were by the weather, many students still managed to complain about how "cold" it got during winter quarter. (The worst offenders: SoCal kids who grew up not knowing what seasons are).
I have it on good authority, via the Weather app, that daytime highs at Stanford are in the 60s. Here? Mid-30s. (Seattle, for the record, is about 10 degrees warmer). I tried acclimating to using celsius, but seeing the lower integers relative to their fahrenheit counterparts just intensifies my perception of the cold.
But still, we're not even halfway through December. The worst part is yet to come - or rather to stay for another few months. Here's to a long winter of layering and bundling up.