Let me tell you something: The Game 2008 was the coldest I’ve ever been in my life. Even colder than in third grade when Joey Ballingee poured ice water down my back when we were walking home from the bus stop. In February. Even colder than the time senior year of high school when my friends and I did a totally adorable snow-day photo shoot in our bikinis. Even colder than the cold shoulder I gave the guy I hooked up with last weekend after I saw him making out with a girl at Toad’s. It was, as they say in the Great White North, “wicked freakin’ cold.”

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What? Weather.com says it’s going to be 48 degrees and mostly sunny on Saturday? Well, you must not have checked the wind-chill factor. Check it again. Check it again! You know how Willow Smith whips her hair back and forth? It’s like that, only imagine her hair is the fierce, frigid wind beating against your delicate porcelain skin. Did I mention I’ve never been so cold in my life? And it’s not like it was snowing or anything. Like if you saw a picture of the day, you would be like, “Oh! What a lovely day to toss around the ol’ pigskin!” But then you would notice that all of the people in the picture were crying and their tears were frozen on their cheeks and one girl’s hand was purple and you would know that it was not a lovely day at all.

You know, I don’t trust weather.com. I can’t imagine Cambridge being 48 degrees. They must be confused. Cambridge is a frigid shell of a place where only polar bears are happy. I don’t know how else to explain how cold it is there. If Froyoworld were literally a world made of frozen yogurt, it might be almost as cold as Cambridge was two years ago. But Cambridge doesn’t have a pumpkin pie flavor! The only flavor they offer is icy despair!

Freshman-friend Phillip, you better get out your long underwear, because I’m telling you, Cambridge is colder than the polar ice caps topped with a million scoops of ice cream drizzled in liquid nitrogen! That’s why they won’t let us tailgate! Because they don’t want us to be outside for too long, die of hypothermia and sue them! Sophomore Sarah, I don’t know why you’re nodding along in agreement with me! You weren’t there! You don’t know how cold it was! I thought that my fingers were LITERALLY going to fall off! It was LITERALLY the coldest I’ve ever been! Ever!

But this year, I’m prepared. I’ve got socks. I’ve got scarves. I’ve! Got! A! Fur! Hat! I’ve got those fingerless gloves with the mitten flaps with the cute animals on them to remind me that the entire planet is not a barren, arctic wasteland! Like the frozen tundras of Manitoba. Or Cambridge. Or the hearts of Harvard students.