Why winter sucks.
We, as Canadians, are a proud bunch of Canucks. There are so many things that we happily claim as stereotypes, and then pretend to be miffed about when someone else *cough*Americans*cough* points them out. I mean, it does seem easy to accept the stigmas of “being Canadian,” solely because a lot of them are not actually negative.
We say “sorry” a lot. What’s wrong with that? I bet Vladimir Putin never said sorry. (I genuinely don’t know…… did he?). We love our Tim Horton’s coffee. So whaaaaat. Sorry I’m not really that interested in going to an overly priced coffee shop where I’m buying into an ideology and drinking a non-fat dry latte no foam extra skinny with a shot of Satan while its “fair trade” commodity is sucking the life out of some poor child in a rainforest somewhere
wat r facts lol. Hockey is a religious practice here. At least we don’t go door-to-door trying to convince you that Wayne Gretzky fell out of the sky on a giant hockey stick with a puck for a halo, and then God created hockey and He saw that it was good.
But there is one thing that we Canadians cannot accept. We live in North America. North America. Our mantra is “We Are The North.” Yet somehow, every year, without fail, winter comes along and fucks with everybody’s lives, and suddenly we can no longer function as normal human beings. Our North becomes a frigid hellhole. We cannot leave our houses. Public transit stops running. Schools close
unless you go to York. Just kidding York is on strike. Everyone forgets how to drive. Whenever there’s a forecast for more than an inch of snow, everybody loses their shit and prepares for the next snowpocalypse.
And this happens. Every. Goddamn. Year. And with all of this frustration comes the chorus of motherfucking optimists saying “We’re Canadians! Back in the day we didn’t have shovels, we had to scoop the snow off of our hybrids and Smart Cars with our teeth! This is nothing!! A-hyuck!” Excuse me sir, but I don’T THINK I FUCKING ASKED FOR YOUR OPINION. No matter what side of the spectrum you’re on; whether you’re a pessimistic hermit who hunkers down when the thermostat drops below unpleasantly brisk; or you’re a polar bear; winter does shitty things to the best of us. I fit right in snuggly with those pessimists, and here are some reasons why winter just plain ol’ fucking blows.
You cannot look cute when you go out. Even if you go full-face makeup and make sure that your hair game is on point, and that little skirt that you just bought gives you generous Yonce butt, you will have to garb up in multiple layers of suffocating faux-fur and acrylic scarves and hats and enter into an awful sneaky itchy death spiral of hatred. When you get to your final destination, you unleash yourself from your Canada Goose prison, and you have somehow turned into a scrawny, unfortunate-looking skeleton of your former Hour-And-A-Half-And-Four-TTC-Vehicle-Rides-Earlier self. No fun.
Similarly, getting ready to go anywhere in the winter takes almost four times as long as it does in pretty much any other season. In spring and fall, just make sure you have a light jacket and you’re good to go. In summer, you can basically walk out of the house naked and no one will bat an eye. But in the winter, don’t even trrryyyyyy to leave your house in less that thirty seconds, because you will fail. If Rocket Man tells you your bus is coming in 5 minutes, you know that at least 4 of those minutes will be taken up by finding weather-appropriate footwear, layering up UNDER your layers of outerwear, hunting down gloves and then hunting down mittens to put on top of your gloves, and theeeeeennn managing to shove your michelin body into your parka and somehow zip it up with your mitten-fists. You must then pray to Orlando Bloom that you have exited the house with enough time to make it to the bus stop. **SPOILER ALERT** you didn’t.
Don’t even get me started on trying to FUCKING DRIVE in the winter. And I’m not talking like slushy, ugly, muddy, mid-December winter. That shit’s a piece of cake. I’m talking total bowels of winter, where the snowbanks are taller than the roof of your car, all of the lines and markings on the road have either been scraped off by ploughs or are covered by an icy layer of death, and everything on and around the road is a death trap just waiting to eat you and/or your vehicle alive. Thank God for snow tires. And thank God that even though I live in Toronto where apparently no one believes in snow tires, thank God for snow tires. Frsrs.
Snow days are a thing of the past. When we were in grade school, if we saw even the Littlest Snowflake That Could on a school night, we crossed our chubby little fingers and hoped our butts off that schools and/or buses would be cancelled the next day. It would mean getting to stay home and hang out with your parents, go to the nearest slope and toboggan (or tobooze if you were of the legal drinking age
you probably weren’t), and drink hot chocolate to your heart’s content. It was a special, almost ritual time of our adolescent lives. Now, in **~~adulthood~~**, one of two soul-crushing things happens: 1) no matter how much snow Mother Nature shits on us, Universities NEVER. FUCKING. CLOSE. Classes are still held. Assignments are still due. You still have to get up at 7am and trudge out of your house into snow that comes up to your eyeballs. Yay. 2) Schools close on a day that you didn’t have class in the first place. -sad face-
Needless to say, we have to take a lot of winter-related bullshit as Canadians. But we’re a resilient people: we somehow tend to make the best of it, in spite of all the crazy people ranting on the internet. 😀