This trip to Colorado can't come soon enough

Note to self: The meteorologist's word should be taken just about as seriously as the e-mail that claims Bill Gates will pay you thousands of dollars if you forward the message to seven of your friends in seven minutes and if you don't do that bad things will happen to you like they did to my neighbors, cousins, dentist's step-father...

Ever since I moved to Seattle, I've become a wimp. There's something in the air, or the water, or the decaf coffee.

According to the sensationalist news, the entire country is in the bony icy clutches of a terrible cold snap. The thermometers out here have been hovering in the low 30s, which admittedly is cold for here. But having grown up in a climate where it gets colder and where it actually snows, and where neither of those two things cause the city to go into anaphylactic shock, what I'm about to admit makes me feel very, very ashamed.

For a few days, there have been predictions of horrible snow in the city, and when I say horrible snow, we're talking 1-3 inches. In Seattle's defense, it doesn't snow that often, the city is quite hilly, and usually sheets of ice precede the snow, so I have learned to cope with the horror that is a flurry or two. It does shut the city down, mostly because people have no idea what to do and they lose all common sense.

So I get that. But what doesn't make sense is the proactive paralysis we get. And I say we, because I bought into it today. That horrible snow storm was supposed to hit this morning. And because of that, all of the schools up and down the Puget Sound were closed, and my work-sponsored commuter bus completely cancelled all of its routes. And I, usually being of sound mind and judgment thought the forecast to be believeable and decided, like most of Seattle, to work from home. And thank goodness I did, because it did not snow one little flake at my house. Not-a-one. The morning storm quickly became the early afternoon storm, then late afternoon storm, then night storm. It's night time now, still no storm.

I've lost my edge. No longer am I the cool rugged Colorado girl who can brave the elements--okay, I may have never been her. Now I'm no longer the girl who can make fun of all the wimps that put their life on hold because of the mere thought of snow, because today I became one of them.