If there is one thing that has been on my last nerve lately, it's this whole thing where people have been whining endlessly about it being cold and snowy. In Pittsburgh. In January.

Let's all take a second and wrap our brains around that. Can you believe it's cold and snowy? In Pittsburgh? In January?

Anyway, I want to whine endlessly about the endless whining about that which should be expected, but I think whining about whining is almost as bad as just whining. So.

North Dakota.

I grew up there.

I think that means I know a thing or two about cold and snow and ice. Despite the fact that it's about 246346798 bajillion times worse there in January than it is in Pittsburgh, I still have a lot of fantastically fun memories about winter growing up. For example:

-- Our back yard had a low spot right smack in the middle of it. Each fall, that low spot would fill with water and by December it was frozen solid. Since it rarely gets above 20 degrees in winter in North Dakota, it would stay frozen for a solid three months or so, leaving lots of opportunities to ice skate in our back yard. My friends and I had a great time doing waltz jumps and sow cows on our own personal ice rink.

-- School doesn't get canceled in North Dakota. Ever. Well, I take that back. I actually remember twice that school was canceled because of weather. The first time was when I was in second grade and it snowed twelve feet in less than 24 hours. The second time was in high school when the governor declared a state of emergency because the temperature was around -40 degrees and the windchill was something even more obscene. I spent that -40 degree time hanging out at the mall with my friends. Somewhere along the line, I managed to lock my keys in my car with it running. That may not sound like much fun, but at the time, it was absolutely hysterical trying to figure out how to break into the car when it was too cold to stand outside for more than a second or two at a time.

-- The Great Pizza Experiment always made for a good time. A friend of mine happened to be part of a family that owned a pizza shop. Anytime a pizza was a waste pizza and we were around, we would throw it out into the parking lot and watch how long it took to go from piping hot to so frozen you could shatter it by throwing it at the ground.

And this is probably where you were thinking I had a totally lame childhood. True fact. But, what else are you supposed to do when it's below zero and the snow is up to your chin?