The Tartan

Editorials featured in the Forum section are solely the opinions of their individual authors.

Have you ever had the following interaction?  Person 1: “I’m so cold!” Person 2: “It’s not even cold outside.” It’s an exchange that I find myself reliving daily — as if I am stuck in the world’s most boring Groundhog Day time loop — namely as person 1. As a Texan living in not-Texas, I find myself struggling to adjust to the cruel nature of Pittsburgh weather. The past weeks have been a rollercoaster. It’s strange to try and keep track of whether or not a 50 degree day will be a 50 degree day that feels like the end of winter, or a 50 degree day that feels like the start of spring. There is a difference between the two. The result is me consistently underestimating the cold and underdressing for the day. 

I have found that the main factor in determining whether the weather is good or whether the weather is bad is the amount of sun and wind at play in the forecast. In Texas, the breeze is a welcome relief from the blistering sun. Here in Pittsburgh, it feels more like a big “screw you and any part of you that is hopeful for the warm relief of spring.” I walk from my dorm to my class and tears roll down my face. Not because I am sad, but because it’s so windy. Some days I say, “It’s time to lock in.” I get ready to go to the library and work through readings, but I always find myself ducking into the College of Fine Arts and settling to work at The Zebra Lounge instead in order to escape walking through a campus that feels like a never-ending wind tunnel. 

I am cold. It is an indisputable fact. Why is it then, that people insist so strongly that my feeling cold would be such an absurd exaggeration? I understand that many students at Carnegie Mellon are used to this weather, but that doesn’t change the fact that I am not. I have tried to acclimate myself to the Pittsburgh climate. I force myself to spend time outside even when I find myself wishing I wore a warmer jacket or sweater. This exercise in tolerance doesn’t acclimate me to the weather more than it does condition me to keep my mouth shut and pretend that the weather is nicer than it actually is.

Despite the fact that the cold is new and soul-crushing for me, I find ways to reason with and accept the chilly conditions. After all, it is better to be cold than hot. If you are cold, you can always bundle up. If you are hot, there is always a point at which taking off more clothes is unacceptable. Nudity is often frowned upon, and even if you were completely naked, there is still the possibility that you might still feel hot. What is there to strip next? Skin? I don’t think so. I will always choose a cozy scarf and mittens over nudity. 

In Texas, I spent my springtime outdoors seeking out the limited shade and refuge from the heat. The sun was almost always guaranteed. The question was whether or not you would be able to find a way to escape heat stroke. It is not like that in Pittsburgh — for one, I am appreciative of light. I almost always go out of my way to walk through the light and stay away from the shade (which always makes it feel ten degrees colder than it is).

  The Pittsburgh population is generally deprived of sunshine and we find ourselves seeking out the light in the persistent darkness. This is why when it hits 60 degrees, the suddenly-increased student presence on the Cut makes it feel like we are at a college with some semblance of school spirit and community. You know the weather is good when every single picnic table overlooking the tennis courts is taken and the volleyball games start up in between Purnell and the University Center. Until we get to the point where 60 degree weather is the weekly norm, I will continue to yearn for the warmer days that have yet to come.