Dear Martin,

I'm trying to figure out how the city can be frozen over while the sun still shines ever so brightly against an impossibly clear blue sky.  Davis weather is bipolar.  If the cold doesn't kill me, the sheer weight of what I'm wearing will.  Lately I've taken to wrapping myself in six layers of clothing.  When I walk to class, I have to cradle my face in my hands to keep it from freezing into a permanent expression of misery.

I'm beginning to look like a depressed chunky kid.

I need you here to hold my hand--well actually, all of me in general.

Love,
Chantal