Thursday 24 January 2013

An Open Letter to the Denizens of Facebook Who Are Moaning About The Weather...

(Please Note: This blog was written in an attempt to procrastinate. I'm waiting for the American Horror Story Finale at 10pm but don't really wish to read the case study for tomorrow's class either)

Dear Facebook Friends from Scotland

Once upon a time, I was like you. Once upon a time, I would have considered a temperature of -1°C unbearable. Once upon a time, six inches of snow would have resulted in a mandatory period of hibernation. Once upon a time, I would have moaned about the weather consistently.

However, my eyes have been opened and to quote the great Johnny Nash song, 'I can see clearly now that the "snow" has gone'. You see, whilst you are all whining about a minuscule layer of frost on the path, I have to walk on pure ice. Every step I take is a matter of either life or having to use my health insurance. Shall I talk about the snow? Well, I've been here nearly four weeks and there has always been snow. It's like grass now. The worst thing is that nowadays, I pray for snow. I pray for snow because it is easier to walk on than ice. I hate snow. 

Don't get me wrong, I love this city so far. The culture is great and there are so many things to see and do. The people are very friendly (even the bus drivers say 'Hi', I'm not used to that) and HEC is probably the nicest university I've ever been to, let alone study in. However, when I chose North America for exchange, I was hoping for a climate more 'Florida' than 'Siberia'. I don't wish to sound ungrateful (even though I'm probably coming across ungrateful anyway), just hold in there, I'm going to say something nice now!

Yet, despite all this, Montreal just shrugs it off and gets on with life. 30cm of snow? Well, you better get your snowshoes on because neither work or university is closed and you're expected in. Buses and Trains? Always running and are still reliable. The thing is, people here have balls. They don't let anything get in their stride, they don't make excuses and they don't moan. It's admirable. I admit, the latter is something I'm still struggling with. I'm the moaniest person I know and not a day goes by without me remarking how cold it is (I say remarking, I mean ranting). So, I guess I'm hoping that if I can take anything from this experience, it's that I learn to 'man up' about the Scottish weather.

To show you what I mean, here are a few exhibits I wish to show to the 'court'.

Exbitit A: Snow Level


Okay, so I'm not going to lie to you, this was taken a short time after the 'freak snowstorm' hit Montreal. This amount of snow is a rare occurrence but still, SNOW.

Exhibit B: Clothing Layers



This is a hideous picture, it should come with a disclaimer about going blind but for the sake of fairness, I am allowing it to be published. This picture was taken today, when I had a pair of leggings, jeans, two tops, two scarves, large fleece, winter jacket, hat and earmuffs on. And I was still cold. Why? It was -26°C. 

Exhibit C: Paths


I can deal with most things here. Snow is okay now. But pure ice on the path? No. I've fallen over twice and both times wasn't pretty. I walk slower than the elderly here and that is shameful. But I'm so frightened of breaking my legs.

So, I guess the point of this open letter was to tell my Scottish friends who feel the constant need to moan about the weather TO MAN THE FUCK UP AND GET A GRIP. PEOPLE HAVE TO DEAL WITH FAR WORSE. EVEN FAR WORSE THAN WHAT I'M DEALING WITH. STOP BEING PUSSIES AND GET ON WITH IT. 

'Ahem' have a nice day!

Amy :)

P.S. Yesterday, my Auntie's gorgeous Golden Retriever, Robbie, sadly passed away. I know he was only a dog and perhaps some people don't appreciate how upsetting this can be to people but I was gutted to hear about his death (and cried on FaceTime, I'm not even ashamed). He was such a nice-natured dog, with his dopey wee eyes and inability to climb stairs without a push. We will always have the memories, such as when he jumped on my parent's bed on Christmas Day when we looked after him. So, God love you Robbie Dog, you will be sadly missed!


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