the coldest i've ever been

See this, right here? This is not it. This is me, frolicking in California last week. Note how not cold I look.
Paul and I flew out to stop my brothers from killing each other. Okay, not really. We actually flew out to enjoy some quality shenanigans with our families. No conflict resolution was involved. This incident ended peacefully. Some indian burns may have been involved.

A couple days after returning from the land of milk and honey, we drove to D.C. with Kevin and Ryanne and their good friends Sandy and Tim for the inauguration. Mad props to Kevin for this sweet angled shot. I think it captures beautifully our thoughts and emotions at that moment: Andrea- I am so pleased I can feel my feet right now. Paul- I am in no way experiencing hypothermia. Nicely done, Kevin.

After an awesome day of looking at historically significant artifacts (dude! we saw the magna carta, for reals!), we thought we'd have our picture taken in front of this pretty white building. Still, not the coldest I've ever been.

So, I guess you have to get up pretty early to be first in line for one of the 21st Century's most anticipated events. Here, smashed up against a lot of happy strangers with some of my favorite people at 6:30 in the morning, I thought......yeah, getting pretty cold.

Uh.......awesome.

This is it. The coldest I've ever been. You can't tell, but here I have on leggings, tights, two pairs of socks, jeans, a tank top, two long sleeve shirts, a turtleneck shirt, a sweatshirt, scarf, hat, gloves and puffy coat, and I am still completely fa-reezing. For seven hours, I jog in place and watch as one of our nation's most historically significant moments unfolds.

I have to admit, as I jog in place and pray that my feet won't fall off, I feel a little guilty. I mean, I've never been a very political person, and I know people who would have jogged in place for much, much longer to have the opportunity I was being afforded.

As I wait for Ryanne to come out of one of the port-a-pottys lined up for what seems like miles, I pace. Got to keep the blood flowing. Foot retention has always been a priority of mine. A woman is walking toward me; I shift my pacing to the right. Still, she's about to run into me, okay, shifting pace to the- oh, wait. She's walking up to me.

She says hello, asks me how I'm doing. It's a cold day, isn't it? Through chattering teeth, I agree. An exciting day, isn't it, I say. She smiles. We're all cold, but we have warm hearts, she says.

I'm not so cold any more.