Il fait froid

It is cold in France. When I first got here, it was about 45-50 degrees F every day and I thought, "Maybe this won't be so bad!" Well apparently, in Tours, the coldest month is NOT January like the rest of the world is used to, but FEBRUARY. I'm freezing, and its only just begun.
Keep in mind that French people, as a population, do not get cold. They sit outside, in parks, at cafes (sitting outside when you have the option of going inside?? CRAZY) and spend hours in the freezing cold. And they just laugh and smoke their cigarettes like nothing is wrong and they are acting completely rational. 
I have a low tolerance for cold. My fingers go numb after the first ten minutes of being outside if it gets below 45 degrees.  (and they actually go numb, to the point where people scream because my fingers look dead... apparently this is a type of disease and I'm a good candidate for diagnosis) My toes are the next to go, followed by my attitude. There is no consoling me when I reach this point. I can literally only think of being warm- don't bother talking to me, I really can't hear you.
That all being said, today for my "Tours architecture and area" type class, we had to meet at the St. Martin Basilica. I KNEW it was going to be freezing, so I came prepared. I wore my thickest long sleeve shirt, a fleece, a scarf, a jacket, and mittens. And Uggs. And I was warm! For fifteen minutes. But I put on my big girl pants and was able to deal with it. Until the second hour of being outside rolled around. Our teacher for this class is Madame Barcat. (Her name is Bar Cat...? That sucks) Anyway, this lady is about 100 pounds and shorter than me. But she doesn't have nerve endings and she never feels cold. Our first day in Tours, she made us walk around, in the rain, and didn't even blink once. She talks so fast and says so much that by the time she's moved onto the next subject, you've actually forgotten the first subject (She also gets really close to your face and always ends up spitting). But this woman, who I always like at the beginning of class and hate by the end, will keep us in the cold, no matter how miserable we look, forever.
For some reason, the Barcat always looks at me when I'm in my worst moment, when my fingers are gone, my toes are gone, my nose is on it's way out... and she says, every time, "I know you're cold." Ok first of all, why me? I am pretending to listen. What about the kid bashing his head against the wall because he's so miserable? (just kidding) But she always points me out, and I always want to tell her that yea, its natural to get cold after two hours outside, but I'm so cold at this point I don't remember how to say it in english, much less french.
This post is getting long and there's still a part of my day I want to tell so I will end my complaints with this: I hate the BarCat almost as much as I hate the woman in the gym who steals the treadmill for walking. ew.

On a happier note, tonight the Bucknell group had to go to some event. I honestly don't fully understand... from what I got it was to help us make french friends :). So they throw us in a HUGE room of international students, give us a nametag, and release us. We basically stuck together but when I went to go get water, so thirsty, I walked by a Bucknellian David who happened to make a french friend! And I got trapped into meeting her. But she's very nice and she wants to go shopping together!

We go to the Chateau Amboise this Saturday. With the Barcat. My Friday is going to be dedicated to finding the thickest wool socks they make in Tours, or possibly France.