It's been cloudy in Los Angeles this whole week but I don't mind. I know my blood has thinned since whenever I go home to New York for the holidays I'm FREEZING just walking out to the car and find it unacceptable that grocery stores allow the automatic doors to keep opening, thus making their store colder. Last year I turned to my mom and asked, "How do you do this?!" I used to be the kid in the t-shirt and jeans claiming not to be cold. After you've played soccer games in sleet, nothing fazes you. A little bit of that rebellion lives in me, only now it's way less impressive.

Take yesterday for example. I was waiting outside the complimentary coffee truck brought to us by the director of the episode and one of the crew guys sees me sans jacket in the 65 degree weather and says, "you must be cold." My arms were crossed but I didn't have goosebumps and I triumphantly told him. "No, I'm not."

Yeah, that's right! I can handle it. Let's even bring the party down to 60 degrees. But first, let me grab a shall. I don't want to get sick.