The Break-Up

Dear Winter,

I don't know how to put this delicately, so I'm just going to come out and say it: I need to start seeing other seasons. I know, when we saw each other back in November after almost two years apart, I'll admit that after a few weeks together, I was smitten. As much as your fluffy white snow fell for me, I fell for you. I was infatuated with your crisp mornings and frosty branches, and I thought your insistence that I buy new boots just for you was charming. I even forgave the more challenging parts of our relationship, like the driveway-shoveling and car-window-scraping and the occasional slip on an icy sidewalk, because I felt that on some level they were good for me, that that stuff made me stronger.

But Winter, we've spent a lot of time together this year, and I really think we both need a break. What I'm trying to say is, you're getting on my nerves, and I'm starting to resent you. It all has to end: The snow, the scarves and sweaters and mittens, and even all that cuddling under cozy blankets. I know, I know, it's typical. The things about you that I found so novel at first now grate on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. That's always the way, isn't it? The other part of it is, you've been keeping me away from Spring and Summer, but it's time for me to see them again. They're good for me in ways that you can never be.

When we reunited this time we talked about it only being temporary, and frankly, you've overstayed your welcome. Please know that all of this doesn't mean we can never see each other again. I suspect it's inevitable that we'll spend more time together in the future; after all, we always rebound after Fall seduces me with her pretty leaves and then leaves me out in the cold.

Warm regards,
Gillian

Why I Love Ken: Reason #463

Tonight, after my backpack was stolen and I was lamenting the things I lost, including my passport with its plethora of stamps (including Machu Picchu!) from South America, Ken hugged me and said, "We have a lifetime to collect more stamps."

We had just boarded a bus to take us from Potosi to Uyuni, about a 6-hour journey. The bus was very small (our knees touched the seat in front of us), and as a result I made the unusual (for me) decision to stash my daypack in the rack above our heads. A few minutes (5? 10?) later, I stood up to help someone else squeeze in a bag, and realized my pack was missing. Gone. Here's the thing about buses in Bolivia. When they're not moving they are full of people, travelling or not. People selling empanadas. People singing songs for money. And, apparently, people who board the bus a few minutes before it leaves and then get off said bus with a bag to which they don't rightfully have ownership.

Just after I noticed it was missing, another passenger confirmed that someone had indeed sat beside him for a few minutes, then stood up, grabbed the pack (my pack! my super-comfortable Osprey Talon-22 daypack! in citron!), and left. I grabbed my remaining possession (a water bottle, PET, 2L) and headed onto the chaotic sidewalk, hoping to catch a glimpse of my bag, but of course it was long gone.

The rest of the evening was spent checking into a hostel in Potosi, filing a police report, making weepy phone calls (to credit card companies, and my mom), and downing a couple of litres of beer. Tomorrow we'll head back to La Paz to find the Canadian Embassy so that I can get a replacement passport (...I know).

Regularly scheduled programming will return after I've finished mourning the loss of my favourite Lululemon zippie and a book that I was REALLY into.

Things That Can Suck It

1. Justice: I just spent an hour at the Brooklyn Borough Traffic Whatnot to contest a parking ticket I got the day we left for Canada. It was Sunday afternoon and we'd parked under a "no parking during street cleaning on Tues/Thurs/Fri" sign. What I didn't see was the sign at the end of the effing block that indicated that the whole block was for commuter vehicles only, all days and all times. The judge didn't buy my reasoning ("So, that street-cleaning sign only applies to the commuter vehicles?" "No, it applies to everyone." "But only commuter vehicles can ever park there, so really, it's only for them, right?" "Just pay the ticket."). Suck it, Justice.

2. National Grid (formerly known as KeySpan): Earlier this year they sent us a bunch of notices saying they were going to shut off our service. When I called about those, they were all, "Oopsie! We forgot to send you a bill, here's one for $400." Apparently they haven't sent us a bill since then because our final bill is for $500. Suck it, National Grid.

3. AT&T: I just called AT&T to invoke the "I'm leaving the country" clause that should waive the $175 early termination fee. Great, no problem! I just have to send them a utility bill or a bill from a new cell phone carrier with my new address on it. THOSE ARE THE ONLY TWO OPTIONS. Oh, and I can't fax it, because they only have a toll-free fax number that won't work outside of the U.S. Suck it, AT&T.