By Brittany Leitner and Lyndsey Jimenez
Managing editor and head designer

Two 20 Watts staffers hailing from Texas and California vent about the infamous ‘Cuse winter.

Welcome to Siberacuse, where the skies are perpetually gray and the snow is deeper than most people. Let’s face it: it’s fucking Friday and we’re fucking freezing.

The temps are below zero and peeling off all seven layers once you get to class isn’t fun. Don’t layer enough and your focus is even less on lecture than usual and more on your miserable wet socks. Layer too much, and you look like you walked out of A Christmas Story eleven months early.

As two girls used to at least 364 days of sun year, ‘Cuse winters blow. Literally. When walking to class we get whipped in the face by baby snowflake warriors and have to actively try not to get frostbite when we forget our gloves. Our once-cute boots are now salted and our pale faces colored red from the bitchfest central New York calls winter.

Usually, the one thing that eases some of the annoyance from walking to class through the steep hills and shitty weather is listening to music. Campus is filled with people constantly plugged in to iPhones and iPods to make their solo walks a little more enjoyable. But the weather ruins this, too. How are we supposed to keep ear buds in when the weather requires you wear a hat, a hood and a scarf wrapped around the entire lower half of your face? Sure, oversized headphones act as earmuffs, but what about when it’s snowing? Your ears are covered but your hair is slowly getting soaked.

If you can manage to fit your headphones underneath the hood of your coat, you turn into a sort of hipster-hobo looking monster with bulging speakers sticking out of the sides of your head. Music is important. So once you’ve merged headphones with winter wear you have to commit to walking with your eyes glued to the ground. Heaven forbid you run into your chatty friend who wants to have a conversation with you while you’re now essentially deaf to the world and removing headphones is a physical activity on its own.

Tired yet? So are we. Go away single-digit weather. We miss looking cool in our chunky dry boots and ripped jeans. We miss pregaming class with our favorite “Bad Romance” remix and cursing the bros in their salmon-colored cargo shorts instead of Mother Nature. Class is rough enough without showing up angry from fighting a lonely battle with a blank sky and your overpriced puffer coat.