So I don't know if this is the norm for the east coast (Rilkean should be able to put in her two cents, as well as Mike and Ramona by this time) but one morning I go from being awakened by the blazing sun, searing me through my bedroom window like a salmon filet, (and yes, on more than one occasion I have considered wearing sunscreen to bed) to wading my way through the flooded streets of New York, trying not to get drenched by a bus ploughing through the torrential rains.

And it's not like back at home where you can get away with wearing a skirt in the rain (ooh, Dorothea--you're not in Cali anymore) because here it's a triple threat, and not the Patrick Swayze or Frank Sinatra kind: it's cold, windy and very rainy all at once. Massive puddles form at the curbs, and maneuvering through the sidewalks teeming with umbrellas is a skill I'm still trying to master. I'm also becoming one of many people taking shelter in the nearest subway station to munch my oatmeal, watching people evaluate the rain from the bottom of the stairs before they pull out their umbrellas to confront the monsoon on the street. I feel like a squirrel or some other woodland creature at these times, having scampered to a dry hole to wait out the bad weather, watching the rain the entire time.

However in a large sense I do love the weather here because it does change dramatically, unlike back at home where I believe we don't really have any discernible seasons. Fall has descended upon New York for sure, and it's beautiful. Autumn is my favorite season and here you really get to experience it. A light fog sits on the tops of the buildings, countless women are pounding the pavement in their sleek rubber boots, and cups of soup and tea are in high demand at work. Throughout most of yesterday the rain was heavy and constant, so when Jenny invited me to go out to Chelsea to a Jamaican restaurant last night to watch the debates, we both climbed into our rain boots to navigate the storm outside. But surprisingly we stepped out into a clear, dry sky. The rain had stopped for the rest of the night, though the streets were still shiny and slick (I took every opportunity to walk through any rain puddles I encountered. It's very satisfying to stamp through pools of water in my thick boots, knowing that my feet will stay dry and toasty.) And even though the guy we met up with suddenly flaked on us (so weird), we had a great night standing in the bar of Negrin, waiting for a table, huddling around the tv with so many other New Yorkers, watching Obama and McCain go head to head. Afterwards I enjoyed my first meal of oxtail stew and sweet potatoes while reviewing with Jenny the topics addressed in the debates.

Leaving the restaurant we stepped back out onto the street into a very mild night, and this morning I was greeted not by the torrid sun of summer but by a grey sky and the crisp air of a new fall day.