Hi, I'm in Canada.
Well, I'm kinda in Canada -- I'm in Montreal.
Why am I in the land of poutine and maple syrup, you might ask? Well, I went up to Ottawa for a few days to spend time with Al and his mom, stepdad and brother before Christmas, and we got hit by what the Ottawa paper was calling "Snowmageddon 2008." You know if a Canadian paper is comparing a snowstorm to the apocalypse, it has to be a decent amount of snow... or else just a slow news day. Either one is plausible in Canada, I suppose.
Anyhoo, after reading about the impending End of (Snow) Days, I decided that it would be wise to change my bus ticket from Ottawa to Boston to come back on Sunday morning instead of Sunday night. I figured giving myself an extra thirteen hours to catch my flight to San Francisco on Monday afternoon would be more than enough time -- but the Greyhound people (damn their eyes!) had other ideas, and canceled all buses to Boston today. Nooo! (Nooon! <-- the Canadian government requires me to translate this.)
Suddenly, I found myself in the Montreal bus station, alone, surrounded by French Canadians, the undeniable smell of stale croissants hanging in the air. Noooo! (Noooon!). Of course, I instantly assumed I'd be spending the night on the floor of the bus station, subsisting on poutine cheese curd runoff and Coke Diete, but Al's mom saved the day and booked me a plane ticket out of Montreal into Boston this evening. So here I am, in the Montreal airport, hanging out until my flight leaves in a few hours. Keep your fingers crossed that they don't cancel this flight, because if they do, I might miss my flight to California tomorrow.
I hope none of you are reading this while stranded in a bus terminal or airport at the moment. Stay in and out of the snow/ice, or, if you're in San Francisco, make sure to put on a sweater before going out in the frigid 50 degree weather (hey Dad).