ah, so this is what they mean by chicago winter. it was a lovely -8 degrees out this afternoon. the extreme cold engenders this feeling of camaraderie among chicago residents, a sort of we’re-all-in-it-together look of sympathy that strangers give one another on train platforms. they wear those big, furry russian hats with the ear flaps without the slightest trace of irony, ski mitts and fur-trimmed hoods. in our drafty 19th century apartment building, the cold creeps in under the windows, rolls off the wide windowsills and creeps along the wooden floors like an invisible fog. the radiators puff, clank and hiss, a comforting sound, and the steam on the inside of the windows has frozen to a thick, sparkly frost. the static electricity in the air has reached new levels; zeke sits on my lap and wags his tail against my polar-fleece pants and it makes all the fur stick straight out. i pet him and the electric shock runs out the bottom of his paws and zaps me through my clothes. even neighborhood errands like going to the bank and getting groceries become herculean tasks. to make matters worse, weather.com is taunting me with photos of arizona. i’ll bet if i were in florida i’d get pictures of vail, colorado…to put things in perspective, tho, i hated the 108 degree humid summer days chicago offered up last august even more than this. i didn’t come to chicago expecting to like the weather – and i don’t. but i like almost everything else, so it’s not too bad a trade.