Every year since 2005, I’ve been trying to prepare myself for winter. You’d think it would be easy after going through it every damned year, but no. Russia is a cruel bitch like that. Just when you think you’ve gotten the hang of it, something changes.
I know it’s not Russia’s fault per se for the schizophrenic weather. It’s all the crap people do to the environment. But to all the recyclers and hybrid users out there, I know and you know that we deserve karmic points of some sort.
I can’t exactly pinpoint when exactly winter began, but I’m assuming it’s the week the temperature decided to drop from +2 degrees Celsius to -16 degrees, without a hint of snow and wind blowing from every direction that can be pinpointed by a compass.
On the 4th of December, snow finally graced the streets of Moscow. Maybe not graced…more like bitchslapped. Point is, once it snows, it doesn’t feel so cold anymore. The weather is actually pretty bearable. What not many counted on was it to get so warm that the snow melted. Over the weekend, not only was the temperature back in positive numbers, it rained. The rain that would have been useful during the summer heatwave came upon us like a million elephants in the sky relieving themselves.
Here’s the thing about rain in winter: when it goes back to subzero temperatures, the water becomes ICE. Every single drop of water on the sidewalk is now a potential neck-breaker. There is now a layer of ice at least an inch thick EVERYWHERE.
Why have I decided to whine about this? Because whining is totally my thing. And I really don’t want to read about scarlet fever. Plus the damned ice made me fall on my poor (but fat) ass.
I’ve finished walking around my virtual New York and now I’m in Tokyo. Because of the weather and my recent flu, I’ve not been able to walk as much as I’d like to. Today, after class, I decided to walk home from the Metro station, just to see exactly how treacherous the path was. If it was alright, the plan was to walk to the Metro station every morning. It seemed fine, and my mind was drifting, thinking about a thousand things at once, telling myself that all geniuses do stuff that the rest of the world dismisses as ADD.
After about five minutes of walking, I reached a certain area where I thought, “hey, this is where I fell five years…FUCK!!!” Next thing I know, I’m sliding on my butt, legs in the air, looking like a tortoise on its back. Clearly, I don’t learn from my mistakes. I scrambled to get up and continued walking, hoping no one I knew was walking behind me.
You’d assume that I would get it in my head that it’s not really safe to walk until someone attacks the sidewalks with an ice pick. Humbug! I strutted (as much as a person with a bruised butt could strut) past every single bus stop. One stop away from my hostel lay about 3 metres of nothing but ice and scratch marks from those who had slipped before. I was literally at the bus stop, but I continued moving. My pride would not let me take the bus for one measly stop. I looked at the danger before me and figured that maybe if I made gliding motions, I could get across without too much trouble. Wrong. So very, very wrong.
I took my first step/glide and nearly fell. I tried to steady myself, but my feet just kept sliding back and forth without any actual movement forward. It was like a scene out of a cartoon. I don’t know how I did it ( sometimes the brain chooses to suppress traumatic events) but I got myself to the snow and trudged back home.
On the bright side, I got 95 Nike Fuel points and managed to cross the Rainbow Bridge. I also know that I had better keep my bus pass topped up till March.