As I write this I am curled up under a few layers of sweaters on the black and white linoleum tile floor of my kitchen. I have just installed a curtain for the window, the oven is cranked up to 500 degrees, door wide open, and I am sitting as close to the heat as possible. By the standards of Helsinki or Anchorage this is not cold, but for San Francisco it’s fucking freezing. I’ve been wearing shoes and socks and people have begun to notice. You know it’s cold here when Sunshine is wearing shoes and socks.

Lately I’ve been watching the weather in Zanzibar. Whenever I’m traveling I set my weather application in my iPhone and on the dock of my laptop to display the weather of the city I am traveling to. I like to know what to expect. In my meanderings through the yahoo weather predictions for New York City, Atlanta, and Philadelphia lately I’ve been disgusted. middle thirties, rain, snow. It’s winter, what else do I expect — wait, is it winter yet? To warm my heart up a little I have taken to adding Zanzibar as my median example of what weather should be. In Zanzibar today it’s 86º. I lay back against my chilly white cabinets and sigh at the thought of warm, clear, blue water, wearing nothing but shorts, the smell of clove and nutmeg in the air, and the easy smile that only sun can bring…

I’m ready. Let’s go.