Jordan grew up in Los Angeles and had never lived in a place with snow before coming to Wililams. She used to worry me, shivering in her bed next to the heater with all our extra blankets piled on her, and layered up in her skiing gear.
She's come a long way since then, and now really embraces the cold. She's come a long way in other ways, too, surprising herself. She studied in New Zealand for a year, wrote a thesis in oceanography, sailed for weeks offshore aboard a research vessel, and is now in grad school, studying climate change.
I am so proud of her, and of being her friend.
This is the girl who knows exactly how I'm feeling and what I'm thinking, even when I can't find the words. She was my first real introduction to non-classical music, and the extra nudge I needed to apply for a semester at Williams-Mystic despite my parents' skepticism. She shares my love of running and cooking. She takes care of me when I'm tired and discouraged and grumpy. And I take care of her when she hurts herself cutting up watermelon or running in the woods. We have had a lot of adventures together, and there are still so many more to come.
Maybe that's why the cold weather still makes me think of Jordan. When the wind is rattling around and seeping in through the cracks -- seriously, what good are the windowless cement walls of our library, if they can't even keep out the wind? -- I would love nothing better than to ditch my lecture notes and cuddle under a blanket with a good book or two (textbooks don't count). Alas, that is not to be, and the next best thing I could think of was a bowl of warm rice pudding topped with cinnamon, to sweeten the study time.
It, uh, helps me think about how the GI tract works.
Right.
