Dear texting gloves,    

You’ve held my hands to keep them warm when nobody else would. You’ve given my hands freedom from my jacket pockets. But most importantly, you’ve allowed me to use my phone without getting frostbite. I speak for all students at cold weather schools carrying their heavy backpacks filled with remorse of why they chose this school, harboring a bit of animosity to their high school senior year selves, when I say thank you.   

These schools not only have frigid weather, but frigid personalities. Walking to class and saying hi to each person you know just isn’t a thing here. 

We track pictures of high school and camp friends soaking up the sun and smiling at their southern and west coast schools, while we wipe away that frozen tear of jealousy from the wind gusts. 

The walking position here consists of arms crossed/in jacket pockets, heads down, like turtles buried in the neck of our jackets which are zipped up all the way to provide some coverage in order to maintain feeling in our faces. 

All the while moving as fast as possible to get inside of a heated building. Picking our heads up just for a friendly wave is not worth it, but just looking at them looks bitchy and staring at the ground looks weird.

With Blackberries and flip phones, there was no need for tech-savvy gloves. But as technology innovated, you were born. The last time I saw a non-touch screen phone was sophomore year when someone asked me for my pin to BBM me. 

That was high school, classes were inside and I could roam the hallways with feeling in my fingers, glove-free. Now classes are miles apart, making it a schlep from the library to psychology in the tundra. These walks can be lonely and boring without a friend to make you look like less of a loser walk and talk with. But with you, texting gloves, I don’t need to make the decision to sacrifice my fingers to use my phone.   

Those walks to class when you don’t know who or what you may see, it’s necessary to keep your head down on your phone. You’ve helped me avoid this weekends one night stand, dance floor make out (if I remember what his face looks likes), the kid I drunk texted, the random girl I told my life story to, and any other faux pas I’ve drunkenly exhibited this past weekend.

I’ve been able to avoid the stop and chat with everybody anybody I have no interest in feigning a conversation with.   

With you I can send that “I’m FREEZING!” Snapchat, enabling me to swipe right for the temperature to make my warm weather friends feel bad for me and realize that their 45 degree weather is not considered “winter”. 

Or add the mph to share my speed walking skills to My Story. Even just allowing me to take a picture of myself the scenery and swiping right to hide my paleness perfect the picture with a sepia-like effect.   

You’ve saved me at tailgates, when I wouldn’t know whether it was frostbite or intoxication that caused me to lose feeling in my fingers. Letting me text my friends at the point of the tailgate when I look around to find not one person that I know, 

without exposing any skin on my hand. You’ve saved my attendance grade when I needed a friend to sign me in because I was skipping class running late.   

You’ve allowed me to stay in my own world while walking from point A to point B in the tundra I’ve chosen to live in and I commend you for that. As the temperature drops from 40 to -40, I can promise that you will have the utmost priority in my overflowing basket of winter accessories. 

Sincerely, 

A Fan of Her Opposable Thumbs