Alright, March. Verrrrry funny. Ha Ha. Negative windchill, single digit temperatures...can ya give us a break?

I don't like March. March is weird. I want to like March, I feel like I should like March, but I don't. It's unpredictable. One day it's a balmy 40, and then the next day it slaps you in the face with subzero windchill. Minnesota winters are a strange breed. They're like that kooky, annoying relative that tells awkward jokes and hangs around too late when you decide to host Thanksgiving dinner at your house.

I start to get a bit antsy this time of year. I start to wonder why I live here - why I voluntarily live here. Sure, I had no choice growing up under the Prior Lake roof during my yesteryears...but I'm a full-fledged adult now. I have wings, I could fly south with the birds, go find a job further south. Yet, I don't.

We Minnesotans are a strange breed. We complain about the weather, yet we secretly love it. We love the bragging rights that come with living here. I was told that the Twin Cities is the coldest metropolitan area in the entire world (not city or town, but entire metropolitan as a whole). I think we like that. We love to scoff at wussy Floridians who shiver at 45 degrees, or Hollywood stars who complain when the red carpet weather hits below 60.

Why do I live here still? The people. The creative, music and art of Minneapolis/St. Paul. And finaly, the seasons. As much as I hate winter, I love the natural high I get when spring arrives. We all get a little kooky on that first 50 degree day in spring. The warm sunlight injects itself straight into our bloodstream, and we all fall into a manic state of bliss and hope. Texans would probably think we've taken crazy pills on that first "warm" day...but hey, we all think Texans are a little nuts, too. The temps are supposed to soar to the 40s this week...and my flip flops are begging to be worn 🙂