Damn, my feet are freezing. I've lived in Fairbanks my entire life, and it never gets easy: 40 below is cold, no matter how Alaskan you think you are.

Two weeks ago, I was sitting in a lawn chair in southern California, and my dog, who was on vacation from his busy schedule of scratching himself and licking his butt, was panting even in the shade. Eating a snow cone didn't seem like a cruel joke.

But now we're back for another semester, a semester almost mockingly named "Spring" Semester. Fear not sturdy Nanooks, spring really is around the corner; we just have to survive long enough to enjoy it, but the reward is a sweet one: green grass, plenty of sun, and much, much less clothing. In about two months we'll forget about things like frostbite, hypothermia, and cold-induced dementia.

Yeah, but this here ain't so bad, let me tell you.

When I was a kid, I remember the temperature plunging to 60 below for about a week in the middle of what we were already calling a cold snap. The broken fan belts from cars and trucks were littering the streets of Fairbanks. The brittle rubber would crack in the engine, leaving many a car abandoned by the roadside. I'll never forget that winter.

One beautiful thing about Fairbanks, though, is that we take care of each other in these circumstances, with jumper cables in hand or rides given to stranded strangers. So with the expectation of 30 and 40 below zero this week, the best we can do is take care of each other, whether it's huddling together March of the Penguins-style, with our backs to the wind, or just sharing some hot cocoa with some friends on a cold night. Hang in there, we're pulling for you.