Photograph by Herbert G. Ponting, Antarctica, Terra Nova Expedition (1910&ndash;1912). source: National Geographic 
I worry. Even Roxy tried to put on a sweater. Maybe the century old steam engine powering our usually tropical building has finally given in. The nomad house might soon turn into an iceberg, smack in the middle of Eastern Parkway. Passing by, our neighbors will bow their heads in silence. Their kids will start chipping away the ice, hoping to find mammoths, megalodon fossils and prehistoric man. 
I&rsquo;m not willing to abandon camp yet. Although I admit I am a pussy when it comes to the cold. I can&rsquo;t help it ok? I have bad peripheral circulation. Mandy K has braved it even longer - returning home yesterday after a cozy evening at the library, I found her wearing full ski attire, fingers clenched around her tablet pen. 
These 48hrs+ of cold might prepare us brave nomads for The Day After Tomorrow. Although I won&rsquo;t, ever, burn my Nietzsche, or Chomsky, or Moby Dick. Even my romance collection&hellip; Instead maybe we should invite Man vs. Wild to do an episode on extreme weather / urban survival. That should take care of my tuition loans, or fund future travels. Speaking of hopeless optimism. 
If you receive this message, and we haven&rsquo;t issued warming signs for more than another 48 hrs &hellip; well it&rsquo;s not just this blog that will need resuscitation. I mean, Scott&rsquo;s expedition did make it to the South pole eventually, in January 1912, even if a little late. His team won my heart though, because they pushed through with alpha determination, all along thinking &ldquo;we&rsquo;re first, THE first men to walk this land.&rdquo;  My point is, big dreams are like fire. They can warm you up even through the cruelest winters (this is certainly not one). But I&rsquo;m still hoping to take a hot shower in my tub and not at the gym tonight. 
xo never forget ak+roxy+is, brooklyn 2013 (scratched on my windowsill kids) 